I Love You Most
by KassyMalone
Summary: Life is good for popular let's player Alfred, known online as 'America.' He just hit three million subscribers, and he loves each and every one of them! His fans love him too - the question is, who loves him most? Afterall, 'fan' is short for 'fanatic', and he's about to learn the hard way that what happens on the internet doesn't always stay there. Terror lurks in the comments...
1. Chapter 1

**I Love You Most ~ ~**

"Hey there everybody, I'm America and this is Five Nights at Freddy's 2! Are you ready to piss your pants, because I know I am! The first game in the series was seriously the scariest thing I ever played in my life, I couldn't sleep without my teddy for like a month afterwards! I know I always say that, but this time I mean it! Alright, I've had a LOT of requests to play this one, so let's jump right in!"

With a sweep of his mouse, Alfred pressed 'play', excited and terrified to see what lay ahead. Instead of launching him into an office of horror, however, the screen went bright blue, the sudden change in light making him flinch.

"Aaaaahhhhhh!" he groaned "Blue screen of death! AAAHHHH!"

With a deep sigh, he gave the camera a weary look and turned it off. God dammit, he'd really been looking forward to playing this. Maybe he could fix it himself? He tried a few of the tricks Kiku had taught him, but even turning it off and on again didn't work. Bugger. He stretched as he stood, plodding across his office to pick his phone off the other desk. Hopefully those guys weren't in the middle of recording.

"Hello?" Kiku said, picking up after a few rings.

"Hey man, it's Al!" he greeted.

"Good afternoon, Alfred. How are you?"

"Actually man, not so good." Alfred admitted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly with is free hand "I got blue screened again."

Kiku audibly groaned on the other end of the phone, making Alfred feel guilty.

"Did you remember to defrag your hard-drive like I showed you?" he asked.

"Yes!" Alfred swore.

"Did you?"

"Yes!"

"Did you?"

"Yes!"

"Did you?"

"No."

"Uh-huh."

Kiku sighed again, and Alfred could hear him fiddling about with something on the other end of the phone.

"Arthur and I are about to film another episode of 'Cooking Mama.'" he reported "But if you want to come over after, I can take a look at it while he's editing."

"Thank you soooo much!" Alfred gushed "I'll totally pay you back! How about I pick up dinner and some snackage on the way over?"

"Alright, but none of those bacon things this time."

"Bahaha, yeah, not after what happened! Hey, while I'm over, why don't we see if we can't work on that crossover idea? See if it can't get it up for Christmas?"

"Sounds good. See you soon."

The two hung up. He was going to get it in the ear when he got there – he had sworn blind last time that he wasn't going to need them to fix his computer again, but here he was. He really, really needed to learn how to do it himself, but that would take away from his precious recording time. Mentally apologising to his fans for the delay, he unhooked his tower unit and put it on the kitchen table, groaning when he remembered he had to put on trousers in order to leave the house. Hopefully Kiku could fix it quickly with those magic disks of his, and he could pull an all-nighter to get the video up on time. (Although an all-nighter of Five Nights at Freddy's didn't sound like a great idea. He did want to sleep again at some point in his life!)

Tucking his computer securely in the front seat of his car, held in place by the seatbelt, he dropped by the supermarket on the way over, picking up crisps, dip and fizzy drink, and a few bits he could throw in the oven for dinner. Mind preoccupied with plans for their crossover, he arrived at his friends place before he realised it, hoping they weren't still filming as he rung the bell.

A second later his phone rang, and oddly enough it was Kiku. Instead of speaking, however, the second Alfred answered he was assailed by the sounds of screaming and yelling.

"FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING BITCH, I FOLLOWED THE FUCKING RECIPE EXACTLY, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"

"Stop crying, it's just a game!"

"WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?!"

Alfred just laughed, hanging up. Getting the message, he put the phone back in his pocket, placing his computer carefully on the step, well away from the door, and took a seat on the concrete, pulling his notebook out of his bag to brainstorm ideas. About half an hour later, the door to the building creaked open, Kiku popping his head out.

"Sorry to make you wait." he greeted.

"That's okay." Alfred said, putting his stuff away before standing "I got some good work done. You?"

"Yes, we got a few episodes of material out of this one."

"Your Cooking Mama series is pretty popular, isn't it?"

"Yes, people like seeing that vein on Arthur's head pop. Come on up."

Up on the fifth floor of the building, the flat was neat as always, the tripod still set up, cameraless, in front of the television. At the back of the large living room/kitchen, Arthur was already at his computer, loading their footage into the editing program, as the kettle on the hob started to whistle.

"Alfred is here." Kiku reported as they came in.

"Did he bring cigarettes?" Arthur grumbled.

"You're trying to quit." Alfred reminded him "Don't let Cooking Mama break you down, man."

Arthur just grumbled again, legs twitching as his craving for nicotine went unsatisfied. Alfred dropped his shopping in the kitchen counter, putting the cold stuff in the fridge as Kiku took the kettle off the stove, letting the water cool a bit before making the tea.

"When are you guys gonna buy a coffee maker?" Alfred laughed "Who even has stove-top kettles anymore?"

"There's nothing wrong with my kettle." Arthur grumbled "I refuse to make tea in the microwave like a savage!"

Alfred just laughed again. Kiku made the tea, picking up the pair of glasses that lay discarded on the side. He put the mug on the table in front of Arthur, popping the glasses on his head.

"Wear these." he ordered in a tone of voice the suggested he had said the same thing many times before "You're the one who'll be complaining when your eyes hurt later."

"Thanks, _mum_."

"Don't let Mama get to you." Kiku chuckled.

"I'll beat that bitch next time."

Arthur picked up his tea, finally turning to face Alfred, who was tipping the crisps into a large bowl.

"So, I heard you hit 3 million subs." he said "Excited?"

"You bet!" Alfred enthused "I can't believe I got so many in just 18 months! I'm totally stoked!"

Arthur smiled, taking a sip of his tea before answering.

"Well, you pump out enough videos." he said "How did Five Nights at Freddy's go?"

"Didn't." Al admitted "I got blue-screened again."

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh, similar to the one Kiku had given earlier.

"Al, you've got to take better care of your equipment!" he lectured "The tower is customer built, how much do you think it would cost you to get it fixed in a shop? We won't always have time to do it for you, you know."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" he swore "I'll totally take care of it."

Arthur didn't look convinced, giving Alfred _the look_ as Kiku hooked up the tower to his own monitor.

"I've said it before." Kiku mentioned "I can set the tasks to happen automatically. It's not a problem."

"Yeah, but then I can't use my gear until it's finished." Alfred pointed out "That'd suck!"

Arthur grumbled again, taking a big gulp of his tea before turning back to his monitor, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"I don't have time to babysit you." he told him "I've got our editing to do, plus Sakura sent me a bunch, so I'm going to be up all night as it is."

"Sakura? Name rings a bell, but what's wrong with her computer?"

"... Nothing..."

"He's sweet on her." Kiku teased "Have you ever seen 'Cooking with Cat'?"

"Oh!" Alfred recalled "Yeah, that really cute girl with the kimono! You know her personally?"

"He cameoed on one of the episodes." he continued to tease "It was sweet, he was blushing the whooole time. 'Yes, Sakura.' 'Let me get that for you, Sakura.' 'Do you need anything else, Sakura?'"

"Shut up!"

His friends just laughed at him, Kiku pulling out his magic disks as he started up Alfred's computer.

"This may take a while." he confessed "Do you have something to keep you amused?"

"Yeah, I got stuff to do." he admitted "Can I borrow your laptop? May as well do some PR while I have some time."

"Don't forget to log off your Facebook this time."

"I won't."

Kiku passed Alfred his laptop before getting to work, and Al set himself up on the sofa, chips on one side of him and glass of coke on the other. Arthur plugged his headphones in so his constant repetition of sound clips wouldn't bother the other two, and for about twenty minutes the three of them worked in silence, Alfred checking his emails before logging onto his youtube account.

"Aw, man!" he cried, startling Kiku a little "Norway beat me to it!"

Leaning back on his office chair, Kiku watched over Alfred's shoulder as he hit play on the video.

"Hey, this is Norway. Today we're playing Five Nights at Freddy's 2. Let's do this."

"I both love and hate his voice." Kiku admitted, turning back to his desk "Don't watch that, you'll ruin the game for yourself."

"Yeah, you're right." Alfred supposed "I'll watch it later. Don't want to spoil the surprises!"

Flipping down his subscription list, he started to pout when he saw that quite a few people had already started posting videos about the game. It was to be expected, he guessed – the first game had been super popular – but it made him even more impatient for his computer to be fixed so he could play it himself. He'd have to really put his all in to make his video original.

"Russia's video has half a million likes?" he grumbled to himself, habitually biting the nail on his thumb "How does he do it? Every time there's a horror game..."

"It's the accent." Kiku swore "He and Arthur, every other comment is about the accent."

Alfred laughed – he could well believe it. Speaking of comments, he had yet to read the ones from his last video. It was impossible to read all the comments on every video, of course, but he liked to read as many as he could. It gave him a warm glow in his heart when he recognised the same names coming up over and over again, when his subscribers would leave him compliments and talk to each other and form friendships. He had a pretty good fanbase, luckily, even if there was the occasional troll.

He scrolled through the comments, leaning back on the sofa with the laptop on his legs. Oh, there was happykitty714 again: she (he felt like they were a she) was always one on the first to comment on his videos. There was markimoo, d3ada1r, koalajoe (complaining again, Joe?), all the usuals, along with a bunch of names he didn't recognise. Skimming through the text, one comment in particular caught his eye.

'**Eagle2:** who's that girl at 4:23?'

Girl? Damn, had he missed something again? He often got so engrossed in the game that he ended up missing the little details. Nothing got past his viewers, though! He better step up his game!

'**softtkityy:** did America get a girlfriend?'

Ha ha, very funny.

'**Dreamscape:** hey, she's cute! America, what's her name? Is she a let's player too? What's her channel?'

Ha?

'**Eagle2:** check it out, you can see her in the back of these videos too!'

Following the comment was a list of about six links to recent videos of his, ending with the times at which the girl could be seen. Confused, and to be honest, a little freaked out (since they were all different games), he scrolled the timer on the video to 4 minutes and pressed play, paying close attention to the game. No girl appeared in the game footage. He rewound it, watching it again to make sure. What were they talking about?

His eyes wandered up to the top left of the screen to his reaction cam. He could never quite get the angle right, in his opinion. Either his headphones were in the way, the light was on his glasses or it made it look like he had a double chin. At least his hair looked good. On this occasion, the back of his office could be seen, the open door to the hallway just visible to the side. C'mon, Al, you can do better than that!

Just as he was going to pay attention to the game footage again, he saw what the comments were talking about. At four minutes and twenty three seconds, a woman walked past the open door, her features hidden by the darkness of the hallway. She stopped at the door, taking a good look at Alfred filming for thirty seconds, then moved on down the hall.

Alfred froze. His heart stopped beating, throat going dry.

He lived alone.


	2. Chapter 2 Defensive

**Defensive**

"There, all done." Ivan reported, putting the screwdriver back into his tool bag "It'll take a tornado to get that off."

"Just remember that a deadbolt only works when you use it." Arthur added, sliding it back and forward a few times to test it.

"Yeah, no doubt." Alfred agreed, too freaked out to even be sarcastic.

He loitered around the dining table, arms wrapped around himself as his friends went over the place with a fine-toothed comb. The police could do nothing – despite the fact that the break-in had been caught on camera, nothing appeared to be missing and she left no evidence behind her. With her face hidden in the shadows, it was impossible to even tell who she was.

Alfred had spent the last few nights at Kiku and Arthur's place, too righteously freaked out to go home, but the place wasn't big enough for three grown men to live and work comfortably, so he was soon stepping on their toes.

"No cameras in the bathroom." Francis reported "And nothing out of the ordinary in the bedroom or office."

"And that's the last of the food." Yao added as he dumped a couple of rubbish bags on the floor "The only things I left were the unopened cans, since I don't think your average stalker could tamper with those without leaving a trace. Make sure you buy some vegetables when you restock, most of this is junk!"

"Yeah. Yeah I will."

Seeing how freaked out and uncomfortable he was, his friends couldn't even bring themselves to tease him. Ivan handed him a new set of keys, explaining which of the locks each went to as Yao and Francis took the rubbish out. Yao swore loudly in Chinese as he was stopped short at the door.

"Kiku, don't put ladders in front of the door!" he scolded "You want to cause an accident?!"

"I'm just about done." Kiku reported from the top step "Arthur, can you see if it's transmitting?"

Arthur went into the office, and for a second there was silence.

"Little to the left." he called "A bit more... down a bit... got it!"

Kiku descended the ladder, putting it aside to let Yao and Francis through, before handing Ivan back his tools.

"That's a nice camera." Ivan noted as he took a look at Kiku's handiwork "How much did it set you back?"

"$80." Alfred admitted, fiddling to get his Big Daddy keyring on his new keys "Not too much to pay for peace of mind."

"You did make sure to get that landlords permission?"

"Yes." Kiku assured "They don't want break-ins in the building any more than the residents do. As long as it's not pointing at others peoples doors, it's okay."

"Alfred, come in here." Arthur called from the office "I want to show you how this works."

"You go, we'll tidy this up." Ivan assured, hoisting up his ladder to put it back in his van.

Alfred nodded, going reluctantly to his office. Knowing he was sat right there when his place had been broken into, completely oblivious with his headphones on... it made the room feel particularly unsafe.

The most frightening part was not simply that it had happened: following Eagle2's links, Alfred saw that girl in several of his videos, passing in front of the office door, leafing through the post he had left on the kitchen counter, eating his food... the videos were shot on different days, at different times, over the course of about a week. That it had happened once was scary, but exactly how many times had she been in his flat, maybe when the camera wasn't running, and what had she done while she was here?

"This is a completely bare bones system." Arthur explained "It doesn't even have solitaire. Literally all it does it record the CCTV."

"Okay."

"The camera is smart, though." he went on "It only records when it picks up movement. We've blocked off the window and those potted plants so they don't fill up the hard drive with nothing. With all the people coming and going, you can probably get about a months worth of footage on the hard drive before you need to delete the old stuff."

"So anyone who walks along the hall will be recorded?"

"That's right. No-one can stand in front of your door without the camera getting a first rate view of their face."

"Okay, cool... I feel a little better with this. If she tries to break in again, we'll get her on the CCTV."

"You need to remember to lock your doors, Al." Arthur said again "Your building's not as secure as ours. Even when you're here, you have to lock it."

"I don't think I'll ever forget again." Alfred swore.

"One more thing."

"Hm?"

"Don't go posting about this." Arthur ordered, looking at him seriously "I know you like to share things with your fans, and you'll probably want to laugh about it later, but the last thing you need is for people to think that this is a way to get your attention."

"But... my fans are great people..." Al pouted.

"In three million people, you don't think there's going to be some bad apples? Considering the nature of the break-in and the number of female fans you have, it's not unreasonable to presume that it was one of them."

Alfred didn't want to think about that. He preferred to think it was just some random, or one of his neighbours with boundary issues. That was less scary than thinking he had been picked out...

"Well, what should I say?" he asked "My fans have noticed her already."

"Don't mention her." Arthur suggested "If someone asks, just say she was visiting. Don't give her any special attention."

It was frustrating, but he could see his point. Reluctantly, he agreed.

* * *

The whole gang stayed at his place that night, knowing he was too scared to be alone. Since they were all in the business in one way or another, all the cameras came out, and they spent half their time bickering over the best positions and lighting and what they were and weren't willing to do on camera.

Francis' video ended up being the most popular – it was hilarious watching the whole group fumbling around in sync, trying to keep up with 'Just Dance' on Alfred's Xbox, some with more success than others. 'Dance with France' was a weirdly popular series, although not popular enough that he could give up his day job as a hair and make-up artist altogether. Not that he didn't put that to good use too, filming hair and make-up tutorials nearly every day.

After 'Dance with France', 'Russia's Best Friends Happy Sleepover' vlog was the most popular, mainly because the man had a ridiculous number of subscribers who watched literally everything he put out. It wasn't anything special, in Alfred's opinion – it was like a teenage girls sleepover (as the title would suggest), with each of them telling a scary story, playing truth-or-dare and eating junk food. It ended when Arthur got mad at everyone for teasing him about his crush on the 'Cooking with Cat' girl (watching his ears go red was kinda funny, actually...)

His and Kiku's reaction compilation was the next big hit – they trolled everyone by filming them incognito while they thought they weren't recording, then got everyone to play scary games and made them scream by blowing a vuvuzela right in their ear, the dicks. (It was all agreed beforehand, of course, but it was more fun fore the viewer if they thought it was real).

**AnGeLnIcKiE: **hey, I just noticed that all these guys are named after countries. What's up with that?

**moon_landing: **yeah their a collective. They met in college and formed a club, now they do it for a living. There are tons of these guys.

**Rob Roy: **who's this China guy? Girl? Is he/she new?

**Eagle2: **he's a movie critic – he doesn't do games unless it's a collab. Check our his stuff here =

Alfred's lack of video hadn't gone unnoticed by his fans, especially since he could be seen in all of the others. He felt guilty for the delay, especially when people started pm-ing him to ask about it. He still hadn't finished editing his Five Nights at Freddy's 2 videos, and being alone in the flat was making him jittery – he didn't want to put his headphones on to really concentrate on the sound mixing, but he also didn't want to disturb his neighbours (especially as it was getting pretty late). As such, he ended up wandering around the flat, restless and paranoid.

Unable to concentrate, he logged onto his twitter.

'Sorry for the delay in videos.' he typed 'Feeling kinda bad. Will do my best to get them up soon.'

Well, that made him feel a bit better – at least his fans knew he hadn't abandoned them. Knowing he needed to get his head in the game and concentrate, he went to make himself some coffee. He liked the fact that he had an open dialogue with his fans – sure, it opened him up to a lot of criticism for being too touchy-feely and too personal, but just posting videos alone felt too sterile and officious for him. Sure, it worked for other people – Ms Sakura from Cooking with Cat, for example, or Denmark's Brewery Challenge – but Alfred wanted a more personal channel, a place where everyone could be friends and no-one ever felt left out or unwelcome. That's the reason he didn't want to believe that it was one of his fans.

Hot cup of coffee in hand, he went back to his computer, and he couldn't help but smile at what greeted him – replies to his post were already flooding in: 'please take good care of yourself!'; 'it's okay, you get some rest'; 'did something bad happen? You can tell us': 'feel better soon!'; 'if you need anyone to talk to…'

"You guys…" he muttered to himself happily.

No way it was one of those guys. Arthur was just being overcautious.

Spirits lifted, he got on with his editing. Even though he had double- (and triple-) checked the locks on his doors, he only used one ear of his headphones, the other listening out for noises in his flat. After a couple of hours he needed a break, stretching out his tired shoulders. Flicking through his feed again, he saw a video response to his post.

It was a short clip, about 30 seconds long, that a group of college girls had made on their laptop webcam, telling him how much they loved him and to feel better soon. Aww, that was so sweet! He saved it to his favourites folder, playing it one last time for good measure.

"We love you, America!" they all chorused at the end, throwing up their college flag.

Fatally, he scrolled down to the comments. It was sad that these kinds of videos rarely had positive comments, especially when they were made with such good intentions. Sure enough, explicit comments about the girls attractiveness followed, with crude allusions as to what the writers would 'do' to them. He reported their comments for harassment. There was that spambot again, claiming people could earn 'big bucks from home' by clicking the link. Reported. A 4Chan troll pretending to be a feminist so they could piss people off with their horrible vitriol. He didn't even bother reporting them – he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of his attention.

Finally, he got to the comments he as interested in. The usual spoilsports flung the usual insults, calling it a waste of time (it was 30 seconds, ffs, calm down), a waste of bandwidth, calling the makers 'silly little girls' and far worse besides. Why did they bother commenting if they were just going to be negative and abusive? Jerks.

A few of the comments agreed with the girls, saying how nice the gesture was and wishing America would get better soon as well. Alfred had to stop short when he came across an essay-sized comment written entirely in angry capitals and multiple exclamation points.

**SchizoDoll**: YOU BITCHES ARE SO FAKE! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! TRYINF TO WHORE YOURSELF OUT TO AMERICA LIKE YOUR SOME HOT SHIT HE WOULDN'T TOUCH YOUR THUGLY ASSES AND LOPSIDED FAKE TITS WITH A TEN FOOT BARGE POLE! HAVE A WORD WITH YOURSELF OH WAIT YOU CANT EVEN YOUR MIRROR WONT LOOK AT YOU WITHOUT BREAKING!

Alfred sighed, scrolling down the comment to find the punchline. Sadly there was none, and it just kept going in the same vein

**SchizoDoll**: YOU THINK YOUR GOING TO GET AMERICAS ATTENTION WITH THIS THAT HES GOING TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU AND MARRY YOU AND LIVE HAPPILT EVER AFTER?! AMERICA DOESN'T LOVE YOU, UGLY WHORES!

And he stopped reading. The comment went on, but he had had enough poison for one day. While he usually refrained from weighing in in things like this, this one really rose his hackles – these girls were just trying to be nice! There were enough replies calling SchizoDoll various degrees of bitch, so Alfred decided to be more diplomatic.

**America**: Your comments are very hurtful. Those girls are beautiful and I love all my fans 3 Please don't post such nasty comments, especially when people are trying to do something nice for someone.

Naturally, the comments exploded after that, the vast majority deriding SchizoDoll for her comments in varying degrees of outrage, but a few defending her and saying that _he_ was wrong for interfering in 'thing that didn't concern him' (despite the fact that it clearly did). Washing his hands of it, he went back to his editing.

About one in the morning, he got a text from Arthur, which simply read 'idiot'. Urk. Looks like it was storm in a teacup time again. Sure enough, the whole thing had exploded across the internet, with tumblr paying particular attention to it (but then again, tumblr likes a good outrage). He really didn't want his channel associated with this kind of thing –what could he do without making it worse? Most were on the side of the video makers, and there were thousands of them. Things were getting very ugly for SchizoDoll. Diplomatic, diplomatic…

**America:** Bullying is never okay, and two wrongs don't make a right. It's easy to forget that you're dealing with other real people online, so please think about someone's feelings before you post something hurtful.

He was a little proud of himself – that was plenty diplomatic! Even Arthur wouldn't gripe about it... maybe... The comment war raged on multiple sites, but Alfred would say no more: it was out of his hands now, that was for sure! He went back to work, feeling energised by his break. Within a few hours, SchizoDoll's comment was removed from the youtube, but whether it was by her or the the site was uncertain (although the site didn't usually get involved in these things...). Stretching his sore shoulders (he had to do something about his sitting posture), he decided to check his pm's before going to bed, filtering the chaff into the bin and setting the real messages aside to read tomorrow.

As he scrolled down the list, one name in particular stood out.

**Sender:** SchizoDoll

**Subject: **I'm sorry :'(

This was either going to be very nice or very bad... well, maybe she was sorry (although he wasn't the one she should be apologising to). With some trepidation, he opened the message.

Dearest America,

I'm so sorry about that ugliness before. It's so like you to come to the defence of all your fans, even girls who do silly things and end up regretting it. Thanks you for standing up for me against those bullies – you're my hero! You really are a great guy. It's no wonder you have so many fans who love you – I have to say, out of all the Heta group, I love you most! 3

~ S

Aww, that was nice, if oddly formally laid out. It was good to know that she really was sorry. While he wanted to suggest to her that she apologise to the other girls as well, he didn't want the whole thing blowing up again. It was best to keep his reply short and sweet.

**Sender: **America

**Subject: RE:** I'm sorry :'(

Hey there, thanks for your email. It's not a good thing to be a part of these online arguments – I think everybody should be friends! Take care of yourself and remember to be nice to people :) America.

And that was enough of that. With a wide yawn, he switched off his computer and went to bed.

* * *

Be careful of the things you do, boys and girls. While it may seem like nothing much happened in this chapter...


	3. Chapter 3 Love Notes

Sorry this is a bit late - I just started working early mornings (5am start - ouch!) and I'm still getting used to the schedule change. It's so weird finishing an 8 hour shift and it's only just the afternoon...

Anyway, please enjoy!

* * *

**Love Notes**

When Alfred logged onto his computer the next day to check his messages, he immediately knew he had done something wrong. His messages had exploded – his twitter, his facebook, his instgram, youtube, tumblr, all of them with their inboxes stuffed to the brim. Concerning enough on its own, but on closer inspection he saw that all the messages – every last one of them – were from the same person: SchizoDoll. His blood ran cold. There were so many...

He did the maths. She must have sent one message every two and half minutes to send this amount overnight. Understandably unnerved, he started reading a few: they started out normally enough, with the usual polite small talk people use when writing to someone they don't know – 'Hello America, how are you? I'm fine, but it's raining here. I hate the rain, it makes me feel sad. Does it rain much where you live?' - but they soon got overly personal, referring to him as 'Americutie', asking what brands of soap and shampoo he used, how his mother had been since her retirement (had he even told anyone about that?), suggesting the two of them should meet up and asking how he 'liked his eggs cooked in the morning ;)'. She soon fell into rants about all the things they had in common, what a good girlfriend she would be, how she wasn't like those 'stupid shallow whores' who 'only liked him because he was famous', where they would have their first date, their wedding, what their children would look like, sending him pictures of dresses and chapels and dream honeymoon destinations, punctuated with 30 second porn clips and explicit photos of a wide variety of girls ('do you like this one? I could look like this ;)' 'I'd do this to you in a heartbeat').

After the flirtation, the messages got threatening, demanding to know why he hadn't answered, was he with someone else, who was this whore, she'd never love you as much as I do, who do you think you are, you're just some hack internet celebrity, you're nobody, I could kill you and keep your body under my mattress and no-one would know but me!

"That's messed up." Francis sympathised "Are you okay?"

"Not really." Alfred answered honestly "First my place gets broken into, now this... I'm freaked. I just wanna play games, you know?"

Having triple checked his door was locked again, Alfred sat in his office, legs up to his chest so his feet were on the chair, one eye on the cctv and the other on the door. It felt cold in here today, despite the sun shining outside.

"Should I just delete them?" he asked, phone pressed to his ear "Pretend I didn't see them?"

"My first inclination is to say yes." Francis admitted, the sound of his workplace audible in the background "I've not had any experience with stalkers, but some of the people I work with have. I feel like maybe you should keep them? I mean, it may be nothing, but if it turns out to be something then you'll want all your evidence. Maybe print them off and file them away? I don't know... why don't you ask Ludwig? He's a lawyer IRL, right?"

"Yeah, but he's a human rights lawyer." Alfred recalled "I don't know if he'll know anything."

"Couldn't hurt."

One of Francis' colleagues called his name in the background, sounding annoyed and impatient.

"I'll be right there." he called back "Listen Alfred, I have to go. As for your little problem, all I know is that there are two things you definitely _shouldn't_ do."

"Okay."

"One: don't message this girl back. At all – it'll just encourage her. She's passed the point where 'ask her nicely to stop' is an option."

"No doubt." Alfred agreed "And the second one?"

"Don't tell Arthur." Francis suggested "Your step-brother is already on edge after the break-in, so if he finds out about this... do you remember what he did when he found out those kinds in school were picking on you?"

"Unfortunately."

"Well, this would be way worse. Like, 50 times worse."

"Damn."

"Exactly. Don't tell Kiku, either, or he'll definitely tell Arthur. The last thing we need to two crazy people."

* * *

Alfred didn't want to bother Ludwig – a few weird messages didn't feel important enough mention, especially since he wasn't entirely sure what he could even do. However, he did play Germany's 15 Tips to Staying Safe Online as he printed the messages out, followed by his 15 Legal Home Protection Tips, before just randomly clicking on his list 'Tips' videos as they took his fancy – he wasn't funny at all, but had some very good advice about all sorts of things ('save money on fresh goods by going to the supermarket late at night when goods close to their sell by date have been reduced'? Why had Alfred never thought of that?!).

There was over a hundred pages worth of printing before he finished, shoving them all in a box and throwing it under the desk his CCTV monitor lay on, covering it with other junk in an effort to forget it entirely. He deleted all SchizoDolls messages, including all the ones she had sent him this morning, and blocked her accounts on every platform that allowed him to. Well behind schedule, he made some strong coffee and got down to work, trying his best to put the incident from his mind.

Half way through his recording of a new episode of Alien Isolation, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket, scaring the living hell out of him and causing him to scream like he'd got an electric shock. His flinching caused him to knock his joystick, careening poor Ripley out of hiding and right into the path of an alien. Game over. Grumbling and embarrassed at how loud and shrill he had screamed, he fished his phone out of his pocket.

"Who the fu...flip?!" he declared "Who's texting me this time of day? Oh, it's Arthur. 'Hey Al, what time am I picking you up on Thursday?'" he quoted for the camera "'What did you get mum? I don't want to buy her the same thing again. Bring your own snacks if you're going to complain about my food.' Pfft."

He put his phone down on the table. He'd deal with it later – Arthur would understand that he was recording.

"My brother, everybody." he said to the camera, loading his previous save "Well, step-brother, if you want to get technical, but we're like best friends. Four years older than me. He's 'Britain', by the way, so go check out his stuff if you haven't already – I'll put a link in the description. It's mum's birthday this weekend so we're driving down to see her for a few days. It's like four hours and he drives like an old man, but the view is pretty and he always brings lots of snacks for me, like the roadtrips we had as kids. Plus his car is nicer than mine... Don't worry, though, you won't miss me! I'm working super hard to make extra videos so you'll still have plenty to watch! In fact, by the time you see this I'll have been there a day already! Ah, but that's enough about me, let's see if we can avoid getting face-ra... -hugged. Face-hugged. That's what I meant..."

Alfred had a good time with his family over the weekend – despite the long drive and the multitude of brothers, he felt relaxed, putting his concerns behind him for a few days. His phone kept hollering throughout, going off every time he got an email – in the end, it annoyed his mother so much that he had to turn it off altogether, checking them after everyone had gone to bed. The sites he hadn't been able to block SchizoDoll on were still inundated with her messages, varying from polite to inappropriate to downright threatening completely at random. He deleted them all, careful to keep his phone away from Arthur.

* * *

Despite his good weekend, he was glad to be home, the long drive and Arthur's nagging wearing him down. Yawning widely as he closed the door behind him, he threw his keys into the bowl by the door. It didn't take him long to realise something was off.

His heart froze, cold shiver running down his spine, as he saw something odd on the windowless wall of his living room. It was completely covered in paper. In print outs. All tacked up, from the floor to the ceiling. He hadn't put them there, but he recognised them. In the centre of the paper wall was a pink page, the text hand-written.

**You kept all my love notes! I can't believe you printed them all off, you big silly. This is so cute! I love you so much!**

Alfred's mind stopped working entirely. There was a noise somewhere down the hall. Before Alfred knew it, he was outside.

* * *

"Nothing is obviously missing." the officer pointed out, finishing the notes on his pad "The jewellery, all that expensive computer equipment, it's all there, other than that one computer chip."

"It's a hard-drive, and it's pretty obvious that this wasn't a robbery!" Arthur snapped at him, gesturing to the wall "Look at that! This is obviously a stalker!"

"Is it 'obvious', though?" he asked, clearly disbelieving "I mean, 'love notes'? He did print them all off, and might I remind you that the lock wasn't forced. From where we stand, this just looks like an overly attached girlfriend."

"And what about all the threatening messages?!" Arthur demanded "'I'll kill you and hide your body under my bed'?!"

"It takes two to have an argument, Mr Kirkland. What did he do to make her angry?"

"They've never even met!"

"Then how did she get his contact details? And even if that's true, it's not illegal to email someone. If she's bothering him, why doesn't he just stop going online?"

"Because he _works_ on the internet! And _this_-!" he added, gesturing at the wall again "Is clearly _not_ online!"

"Mr Kirkland, you need to step back – you're getting aggressive." the officer criticised "Maybe you should have a talk with your brother about how he's handling his relationship instead of calling the police."

"You-!"

Kiku pulled Arthur away before he could rage at the officer, hauling him into the kitchen to calm down. The officer and his partner left soon after, considering their time wasted, and Arthur all but slammed the door after them, spitting bees.

Alfred sat quietly on the sofa, not able to look at the wall. Other than the hard-drive that the CCTV was recorded on (the tower unit viciously ripped open and left in the kitchen sink), nothing was missing from the flat – a few things had been added, though, including scented candles, a vase of dying flowers and freshly used plates and pans on the counter-top. That was all he could see in this room – he couldn't go any further into his home to see what else there was: he couldn't handle it.

The second he realised he was outside, he called Arthur, who immediately called the car around and came back. Arthur had called the police, phoning Kiku to see if the camera had a remote feed saved somewhere when he realised the hard-drive had gone. It hadn't, but Kiku turned up just in time to stop Arthur throttling the disinterested police.

Acting as the voice of reason, Kiku made a round of tea before pulling out his laptop.

"What are you looking for?" Arthur asked him, noticing the familiar up-and-down eye movements of internet searching.

"A local locksmith." he answered "The door wasn't forced, so somehow Doll got her hands on Alfred's keys."

"I didn't give them to her." Alfred defended immediately, what the officer said ringing in his mind.

"I know." Kiku assured "But it still happened. Did you ever leave your keys anywhere unattended? Like at the gym? You go swimming a lot. Mouldings of keys can be taken fairly quickly, and there are ways to stop locks working properly, even when it appears they are – I'll print you off some info so you know what to look for."

"Yeah..."

Alfred felt sick. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to stay here. The other two picked up on that pretty quickly, Arthur taking him to their place while Kiku waited for the locksmith. Alfred ignored them quietly discussing what to do with the printouts as he picked up his still-packed bags and went to the car, locking the door until Arthur came down to join him.

* * *

"Arthur?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think it was something I did?"

Arthur looked around from his monitor, swivelling in his chair. Alfred lay on the sofa, bundled up in the spare bedding, but with no intention of sleeping. Since Kiku had gone to bed, the two kept their voices down, Arthur editing with one headphone in. He stopped editing, pausing his audio.

"Honestly?" he replied "Perhaps a tiny bit: you share a lot of personal information online, like the town you live in and the fact we were going away for the weekend. Does that mean think you deserve to be stalked and have your place broken into? Hell no. Some people just have loose wires, and unfortunately not all of them are idiots."

"You think I was wrong to reach out to those people? I've always tried to be inclusive, I didn't want to leave anyone out... was it wrong of me to-"

"In all probability, 'SchizoDoll' doesn't have schizophrenia." Arthur reasoned "I couldn't imagine anyone with schizophrenia having a username like that, not with the kind of stigma the condition has. That doesn't mean she's not nuts."

Alfred kept staring at the ceiling, feeling hollow and vulnerable. Why was this happening to him? What had he done? Arthur sighed, getting up from his chair and walking over, perching on the sofa beside Alfred.

"You weren't wrong to reach out to people." he assured "Your fan community is very inclusive – I read your comments sometimes, and its touching to see how much you mean to so many people. But you've got 3 million fans, Al – some of them are going to be unstable. As the creator, you've got to take the steps to protect yourself. Don't give out so much personal information, have a professional email account, don't tell people your movements ahead of time."

Alfred just sighed, the hollowness growing deeper. He thought he had done all that. He didn't tell people what part of town he lived in, what street, what building. He didn't give out his personal email or phone number... But the worst part, by far, was that his fans, who had always been his friends, his inspiration, his choir of angels, whose names it make him happy to recognise video after video... now they felt like something threatening, an anonymous shadowy mass lingering somewhere between reality and nightmare, plotting against him.

He didn't like that at all. He wanted his familiar names, his regular commentators, to tell him everything was going to be okay, that they were on his side, that SchizoDoll wasn't one of them. But he couldn't tell them what was happening – everyone said so. There were always copycats, and the more attention it was liable to get them, the greater extremes they would go to.

Alfred felt helpless. With another deep sigh, he pulled the cover up over his head and turned onto his side, trying to get some sleep.


	4. Chapter 4 Puppy Love

Sorry for the delay in this chapter, folks - I've been crazy tired lately, since I'm getting used to working early in the morning rather than during the day. But I go there in the end!

Just a quick warning - the end of this chapter might be somewhat disturbing for some people. Can't say I didn't warn you...

* * *

**Puppy Love**

"Move."

"I can't move." Alfred argued as he stirred his noodles with his chopsticks half-heartedly "Do you have any idea how much that would cost? And I'm still tied into my current contract for another few months."

"I would rather be out a few hundred than worried about someone breaking in and stabbing me to death in my sleep." Yao argued "And don't play with your food."

"I agree with Yao." Ivan admitted as he poured some more liquor into his glass from the sake decanter "If it's about money, can't your family help you out a little? You're the youngest, surely your brothers can spot you a hundred each?"

"I can't tell them." Alfred admitted "Arthur is the only one who knows, and I want it to stay that way."

"As someone who is the oldest brother, I encourage you to rethink that." Yao suggested, grimacing at Ivan "Don't ruin my food with cheap vodka. And why are you drinking it out of a sake cup?"

"Aesthetic. And it's not cheap."

"Vodka and Chinese food don't mix!"

"Putting that aside, you should at least tell your parents." Ivan changed the subject "It's only right."

"Absolutely not!" Alfred insisted "I'd be back in my childhood bedroom before you can say 'over-protective'. I don't want to go back home – it took me long enough to move out! They've given up on Arthur, but Mum and Dad are always begging me to quit let's playing and get a real job. If they find out about this, they'll have me committed or something."

"You're exaggerating." Yao sighed.

"Maybe, but only a little bit!"

"I think that's probably the exact right amount of 'protective'." Ivan thought "You can't keep going on the way things are now."

"That's not true." Al argued "Now that there's officially been a break-in, the buildings manager has changed the locks and codes on the outer doors and installed some cctv."

"Neither of those things helped you before." Yao pointed out "She still got past them somehow."

"I still can't believe what the police said." Ivan grumbled before sticking another mouthful of food in.

"Yeah, Ludwig put me in touch with a lawyer friend of his." Alfred told them "Apparently it's really hard to get a conviction for stalking, since it's hard to prove and restraining orders are difficult to enforce."

Alfred's phone went off in his pocket, startling the three of them as Arthur's stern voice ordered him not to answer it. Yao and Ivan burst out laughing.

"What is that?!" Yao screeched "A custom ringtone?!"

"Y-yeah." Alfred admitted, blushing "He set that up for any unknown numbers. I still don't know how she got my number."

"This woman broke into your house several times, and this is what upsets you?"

"Are you going to get a new number?" Ivan asked.

"I'm tied into the contract."

"Stop using that as an excuse." Yao berated "Does this woman have to actually stab you before you take this seriously?"

"I am taking it seriously!" Alfred argued "I'm doing everything I can!"

"Are you? Because it seems to me like you're making up a bunch of excuses!"

"Come on, now, you two!" Ivan refereed "Calm down! Yao, not everyone has the money you do. Alfred, Yao is just worried. We all are – we just want to know you're safe."

"You don't have to be worried." Alfred insisted "I'm fine. Let's just finish dinner and get on with recording, shall we?"

* * *

Alfred was less fine than he let on, but in truth he wasn't fooling anyone. He had stayed with Arthur and Kiku for about a week before getting up the courage to return home, where he found he couldn't even get into the building. The building manager promptly gave him his new keys and the code to the new security system – all these break-ins were effecting their insurance, so they had finally taken their own steps to stop it. As Yao had pointed out, it hadn't helped before, as SchizoDoll had managed to get in previously.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that she was the one behind all this – while Alfred was used to getting frequent, sometimes even daily messages from certain fans, SchizoDoll took it to a whole new level, emailing him at least 50 time a day, sending him short links and long, rambling letters, sometimes proclaiming her unending love, sometimes issuing chilling threats. She had found his phone number after breaking in before, giving it out to all sorts of perverted sites, scam sellers lists and phone competitions, leading to him receiving between 10 and 20 calls an hour – he had to shut his phone off just to get some peace, but since he needed it for work it couldn't stay that way.

She also kept sending him things, and not in the traditional fan-mail way – he had received pizzas; Chinese takeaways; bunches of flowers; baskets of sweets; live bees; half a dozen different prostitutes; the fire department (twice); the police; child protective services (who were less than happy, you can imagine); and if not for a previous incident he was keen to forget, fucking SWAT (which he knew about because they were kind enough to call and see if he was okay before deploying the armed response... this time).

It was exhausting. Completely drained from just trying to keep on top of it all, he couldn't figure out what SchizoDoll was trying to achieve. Every message she sent him ended the same way – 'I love you most' – but nothing she was doing made sense. If she loved him, why was she putting him through this misery? Was she just nuts? If she was nuts, why did she have access to the internet? Why weren't people watching her? He had dealt with trolls before, but she was something else entirely!

All this stress was affecting his output, and that hadn't gone unnoticed by his fans, who were starting to become concerned. Telling them that he was just under the weather prompted them to send him the numbers of a thousand different doctors across the planet, recommend some home remedies and take some proper time off. He wanted to be touched by their kindness, but their messages felt bitter to him now – what if SchizoDoll was just using another screen name? What if there was another person like her, just waiting for the right piece of information to track him down the way she had? It was making him paranoid, driving him mad.

With his output dwindling, his bank account was starting to suffer. He had been wise enough to save some of his profit from the good times, but not as much as he really should have, and the number was fast shrinking...

Unable to work with the constant distractions, Alfred went for a walk. He should've known better – every couple of steps he was looking over his shoulder, searching the street for familiar faces. Was that older lady in the cap following him? Was that the same car he saw five minute ago? It was driving him to distraction. He should have driven, but... if she knew where he lived, knowing what car was his would have been obvious too. He couldn't bring himself to get in his car, not knowing if she had managed to get into it, or under it, somehow tamper with it...

He needed to get his mind off things, to feel better. When he was in a real funk, there was only one place that could really cheer him up, and it was the right time of year for the absolute cutest ones, so he turned tail and headed for the petshop to look at the puppies. Just seeing them in the window was usually enough for him, but seeing them climbing over each other, tails wagging, silently yapping and whining through the glass felt very lonely somehow. Even though he shouldn't, since he didn't intend on buying anything, he went in.

Petshops always smelled so reassuring and nostalgic – like hay and cleaning products, all close and fresh – and just being in one lifted his spirits a little. He took a look at all the fluffy babies, feeling his stress melt away when the little bunnies twitched their noses and tried to jump for the first time and the kittens stomped about unsurely, tails straight up in the air as they got used to their legs. His favourites were the puppies though, who were a little older, playing about and jumping over each other.

He put his hand into their pen to stroke one, and was immediately assailed but a dozen little wet noses, enthusiastic licking tongues and jellybean toes up his arm as they used him as a brace to stand on their hind legs.

"So cuuute!" he laughed "Hello there."

Overcome with cute, he wished he could get into the pen with them (but he had gotten onto trouble with that before...).

"Having fun there?" as voice called, making him jump right out of his skin.

The shop attendant laughed at his fluster, holding up her hands apologetically as he regained his composure.

"Didn't mean to startle you." she apologised "I was just seeing if you were okay there."

"Y-yes." he stammered "Sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"It's alright." she laughed "Looking for a new friend?"

"No, I'm not here to buy." he admitted, feeling a bit guilty for wasting the shops time "I just... needed a bit of cheering up."

"Oh," she replied empathetically "Broken heart?"

"No." he laughed awkwardly "My place was... broken into, I guess. Just feels a bit unsafe at the moment."

"I understand." she said "A lot of people feel that way after a break-in. Last year, everyone on my street got broken into – it was a big problem. Well, everyone but the house with the Rottweiler in the yard. She's actually the sweetest dog in the world, but who wants to risk it with one that big?"

Clearly sympathetic to his feelings, the shop assistant looked all around conspiratorially.

"Well... if you promise not to tell the manager, I'll let you hold one of the puppies." she offered "If he comes along, just say you're thinking about what breed to get."

"I'll lie like a rug." he agreed gratefully.

She reached into the pen and picked up one of the wriggly pups, making sure he had a good grip before letting it go. It immediately started to lick his face.

"That's your traditional golden retriever." she told him "It's a great family dog, good with kids, not much to worry about in terms of health problems for this breed. Needs a lot of exercise and grooming, but otherwise pretty low maintenance."

"Yeah, I had one growing up." Alfred confessed, trying not to laugh and drop the baby as it wriggled about in his hands.

"Then you know." she said "They're pretty good dogs for bachelors – cough, chick magnets, cough cough."

"Very subtle." Al laughed.

"With the right training, they also make pretty good watch dogs." she told him "They aren't used that much because they don't look intimidating, but just the sound of a dog barking can put a burglar off."

"Thanks for the thought, but I really am not here to buy." he reminded her.

"Just making conversation." she assured "That one looks kind of sleepy – shall we let you hold another one?"

* * *

"Hey there, boys and girls, this is America! Sorry for the silence the last couple of weeks – I've been kind of sick. This is just a quick vlog to let you folks know what's going on right now. First of all, thank you all so much for the nice messages you've all been sending me: I have, like, the best fanbase in the whole site, and that's no exaggeration! I love you all! Secondly, I have someone I want to introduce you all to!"

Alfred disappeared off camera a moment, reaching down to the floor and picking something up. He was all grins when he reappeared.

"This is Peggy!" he introduced "She's 50% Golden Retriever, 50% Husky, 100% ADORABLE! She's three months old today! Happy birthday, Peggy!"

He kissed the puppy on top of the head, and she continued to wag her tail and wriggle about in his hands until he put her on his lap, where she sat happily, tail still going.

"I always wanted a dog, and now seemed like a good time!" he admitted "I needed to get out more, and this is a good excuse – plus ladies love dogs! She's already had some house training, so the next step is obedience classes. Look forward to more from Peggy in the future! She's like... Ameridog? Ameripuppy? Ameripeggy? I dunno, something like that! I love this little monster so much already!" he laughed "Anyway, on to my next announcement..."

Kiku stopped listening and looked at Arthur, who watched the video with a none-too-impressed expression on his face. He could guess what he was thinking long before he said it.

"Idiot." Arthur grumbled, turning the video off and going back to work.

* * *

"Peggy, beddy-by time!" Alfred called as he finished brushing his teeth "Time for sleepies."

When the puppy didn't immediately come bounding in the was she usually did, Alfred went looking for her, stopping to triple-check the locks on the front door. Peggy was lying on the floor with her squeaky toy in her mouth, trying desperately to stay awake the way all babies do, hardly able to keep her eyes open.

He couldn't help but laugh, picking her up and taking her to his room, where he put her in her bed. It looked ridiculously oversized for her now, but she'd grow into it soon enough. The puppy yawned widely, wiggled about a little, and promptly went to sleep. Alfred was tired as well – he hadn't made so many videos back-to-back for quite some time, and it was a lot of fun. He had gotten a lot of editing done too, but he was starting to see double, so it was time to go to bed. He left his bedroom door ajar in case Peggy needed a drink during the night, putting his glasses in their usual place on the nightstand and turning off the light.

* * *

It was weirdly cold when he woke up – had he left a window open? He couldn't remember opening one. He didn't want to catch a cold, so pulled on his robe as he got up.

"Peggy?" he called when he saw she wasn't in her basket "Peggy? You better not be chewing those wires again!"

He put on his glasses, but no little ball of fluff came running to meet him as she usually did when he called her.

"Peggy?"

Was she stuck somewhere? Had she broken something, and was hiding in fear of being disciplined? Starting to worry, he exited the room.

"Peggy?" he called again.

What as that smell? Since all the other doors were still closed, he went to the living room. He stopped short when he saw his front door wide open. How?! Had Peggy gotten out? Oh God... had SchizoDoll been back?! He started for the door, stopping as a streak of red on the living room door became visible. His breath caught. His stomach turned. Scrawled in fresh blood and god-knows-what, the remnants of his puppy hung from its neck by the lightcord beside the message:

'I love you most'

* * *

Poor Peggy Q_Q I did warn you.

Did you know that setting SWAT on people is something that actually happens? It's been an escalating problem for let's players, and quite frankly it's a miracle that no-one's been killed. Long story short, someone with a fucked up sense of humour claims that a let's player is being held or is holding their family at gunpoint in their house, prompting an armed response from their local law enforcement, who then storm the place prepared for an armed confrontation. Needless to say this is a massive waste of time and money, not to mention traumatising for the innocent people who suddenly find their house swarming with angry armed police because someone was playing a videogame to try and entertain others. The FBI and local SWAT teams are taking this very seriously, what with the likelihood of someone being killed. I mean, who finds this funny? Really? This kind of online behaviour is the inspiration for characters like SchizoDoll...

Speaking of inspiration, people often ask me where I get my ideas for stories from (not online, though - people online mostly ask me stupid things, like to 'warn' about pairings that don't actually exist in the story. Just FYI, I ain't doing it, so stop asking!), and this story does actually have a backstory - it may come as no surprise to anyone reading this, but I enjoy watching let's plays - for those who aren't familiar, they're recordings of videogames, in which the person playing narrates comically over the footage. If, like me, you don't have the time or money for all the consoles and famous games that are out there, you can watch a let's play and get the gist of it, with some let's players getting into games more thoroughly than others.

A few months ago I discovered a let's player called Markiplier (I know, just 'a few months ago', where have I been?), and I really enjoy his stuff. If you haven't heard of him, check out his youtube channel - he's very accessible and friendly (doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes too...). I found his fan-made games very interesting - few are what you would call 'good', but they had clearly been made with a lot of love by people who wanted to do something nice for him. I thought to myself one day, 'if I were to make a fangame, what would it be like?' And thus, this story was born!

However, if I don't have the time to play videogames I sure as hell don't have time to make them! I needed to get back into writing after a break during the busy time at work, so I thought this would be a good story to get the juices flowing again. Now, I know what you're thinking - why didn't I just write it about Markiplier instead of the Hetalia characters? Maybe it's just me, but I find fanficiton about real people to be a step too far :/ I can't reduce someone to a character in their own life. I'm not judging you if you like that, but I just don't. Also, I can just imagine the kinds of videos they would all make!

TL:DR - hope you enjoyed/weren't too disturbed by this chapter and please look forward to the next one!


	5. Chapter 5 A New Home

Man, I need a new keyboard - the 'v' on this one doesn't work unless I really mash it, and since I'm a touch-typer I keep having to go back and correct it. I have a spare that came with the computer when I bought it, but it's cheap and glitchy so it's not much better. It's really annoying... Anyway, that's enough of my first-world problems. On to the story!

* * *

**A New Home.**

"WHATTUP BITCHES, GUESS WHO JUST GOT OUT OF PRISON?! Hahahaha I'm just kidding! Hey there everybody, this is America, welcome to my new place! I just moved in, so excuse the boxes – I've been quiet for a bit while I was moving, so to make it up to you, all you lovely folks get the grand tour!

This here's my bedroom – check it out: en suite! How cool this that! Yes, I know it's pink – you boys afraid of a colour or something? Aaand here we have the hallway, nothing special here, and this is the second bedroom, with the other bathroom next to it – and no, this one isn't pink, so I don't like it! Hahahaha!

Okay, downstairs we have our main room, check this out – BALCONY BITCHES! Do you have a balcony? Balcony's rock! My view is just the next building though, but oh well. This is the kitchen – cabinets open and close, this is seriously fancy stuff here – kettle is a gift from Ar... England. It's the only thing I unpacked so far, but don't read into that! This is the living room, that's the front door and this thing here that looks like it should be a cupboard is actually another bathroom! No-one knows why this is here.

So in a couple of days I'll be all moved in, and I'll have some brand new videos for you all to enjoy, so until then, I got a lot of unpacking to do! I'll see you all soon! Bye-bye!"

* * *

"Stop hitting me!"

"Alfred, why did you flip the bird at that toilet?"

"Stop, ow!"

"Arthur, stop that."

"He's an idiot and I'm going to punish him for it!"

Despite his anger, Arthur didn't pummel him with anything harder than the sofa cushion, but he really bought it down with gusto, pinning his brother to the seat and letting him have it with enthusiasm.

"It's okay!" Alfred swore while shielding his face with his arms "I didn't give anything away! I didn't look out the windows, I didn't say where my new place is, no-one could see anything!"

"You _did_ look out of the windows!" Arthur yelled "You think your stalker won't freeze-frame that shit?! She killed your fucking dog, you think tracking you down is going to be difficult?!"

"The freeze-frame is very unclear." Kiku assured, clicking through the shots that contained windows "They're far too blurred to be any good. I think this might just be alright."

Arthur grumbled unhappily, nearly smothering Alfred with the cushion. He relinquished the younger man, standing beside Kiku and flicking through the footage himself.

After... what had happened... Alfred swallowed his pride and told his parents what had been happening. As expected, they found it funny at first, his father and brothers teasing him about his overly attached girlfriend, and being a 'playa' and a stud and asking if she had a sister. They stopped laughing when he told them about poor Peggy. They all chipped in to help him with the fees and deposits for moving to his new place, hiring a lawyer to get him out of his current contract, and within two weeks he had the moving boxes in the van.

"Alright, fine." Arthur conceded "It seems to be okay – you got lucky. But don't you dare point your camera out of the window again! And don't angle it towards the door anymore, have your desk so the camera faces the wall-"

"I know!" Alfred interrupted "God knows you guys talked me to death enough already!"

"And yet you've bloody well filmed your whole new place, you git!"

"Don't hit me!"

Needless to say, everyone took the problem very seriously after Peggy had been gutted, and it wasn't just the place Alfred lived that needed to be changed – he sold his car, going to an entirely different garage to buy a new one. He changed the place where he bought his food, the place he cut his hair, where he bought his clothes, how he got to his friends houses, his phone number, email address, PO box, his doctor, his dentist, his cable and internet provider... he cut himself completely out of his old life and set up a new one, grateful that at least he was able to keep his friends (and now he lived a little closer, so that was even better). He couldn't bring himself to buy another dog, and probably wouldn't for a very long time, but he framed one of the few pictures he had of Peggy, placing it by his monitor to remind him why he shouldn't give out his personal information to anyone.

Sadly, the only people who didn't take the event seriously were the police – even with fresh blood smeared all over his living room wall, they seemed more put out than sympathetic, like Alfred was being a nuisance. What would it take for them to take him seriously? She'd already murdered Peggy, but the police didn't care – was it just because she was a dog and not a human? Did that really matter when murder was involved? It was still illegal to kill an animal! While they didn't seem to want to help him, one of the women officers did suggest he contact a charity that dealt with the victims of stalkers. They had had some very useful advice for him – they were the ones who had told him to change his shopping habits and travel routes, and for several months they seemed to be working.

Since he had moved, he no longer had any unwanted deliveries or visitors to his house, and no break-ins. This building had better security than the old one, but he still put up his cctv at the door again, where it picked up nothing but his own comings and goings. He didn't even go outside for nearly a month, just in case, ordering his food shopping online under a fake name, but gained confidence as time went on.

He let only the people he really trusted know his new contact details, never logging onto his old accounts. For the fan-accounts that he couldn't just up and change (twitter, facebook, that kind of thing) SchizoDoll was severely blocked, Alfred going as far as to contact the site administrators for assistance (some more helpful than others). There was literally no way for SchizoDoll to contact him, and the silence was glorious.

For a while, at least.

One afternoon, Alfred got a call from Yao.

"Hey, prettyboy!" he screeched accusingly "Your stalker messaged me today. She said she's _worried_ about you – can you believe that?"

"What did you say to her?" Alfred asked, immediately concerned.

"What, you think I messaged her back?" Yao scoffed "I'm not crazy!"

Concerned, Alfred called Arthur, who seemed more angry at Yao than concerned for Alfred. After some prying, Arthur admitted that he had been getting messages from her as well, and so had Kiku, Francis and Ivan. It had gotten so bad that Arthur had had to circulate an email to the entire collective, warning them about this woman and telling them under no circumstances were they to reply to her messages. Every time someone got a message from her, they called Arthur to let him know, but Yao had been the first person to tell Alfred.

"I didn't want you to worry." Arthur admitted "You had just started going outside again, and she obviously doesn't know where you are, or she wouldn't be messaging us. That lady from the charity said she would, remember?"

"Y-yeah..." Alfred admitted begrudgingly

"Don't worry," Arthur urged "Everything's okay. You're okay. We're on top of this."

* * *

Six months passed, and still there was no contact from SchizoDoll. Confident that the incident was behind him, Alfred even went to a con for the first time in forever, hosting some panels, doing some interviews and filming a few skits while he was there. Although nervous and looking over his shoulder at first, he soon forgot his worries and had a very good time, hauling home over three times the amount of stuff he took with him.

As he got home, he noticed a moving truck parked outside his building, already half emptied of it's contents. He bid a friendly hello to the movers as they got out of the lift, pressing the button for his floor.

"Ah, please hold the door!" a woman called.

Alfred did so, standing aside as a plump woman bundled into the lift, arms full of supermarket bags.

"Thank you so much." she flustered, short silver-blonde hair the only thing visible as her face was hidden by the pile "These things are really heavy – eyes bigger than my stomach, I guess. Never go shopping hungry!"

"Haha, I know what you mean!" Alfred agreed.

The young woman startled. Slowly, she lowered the bags from her eyes, arms not really long enough to lower them past her frankly enormous chest. Alfred immediately recognised the star-struck look in her eyes.

"Oh my god, you're America!" she shrieked "I can't believe this – I'm your biggest fan!"

"Thank you." Al laughed.

"My name is Kat." she greeted, knees seeming to go a little weak "I'm your biggest fan."

"Yes, you said that."

"Sorry..."

Eyes going a little gooey, Kat seemed to realise how she was behaving, clearing her throat and standing straight again, shuffling the bags in her arms.

"Did you just come back from PAX?" she asked "I really wanted to go, but this was the only time we could find to move. I was really bummed."

"Yeah, I did." Alfred admitted "It was a lot of fun. Sorry you couldn't make it, but the video's will be online in the next couple of days."

"I look forward to it. As soon as-OH!"

She startled as the most laden bags tore in her arms, spilling the contents all over the floor. They both flustered, Alfred dropping his bags as he helped her to pick the things up.

"Sorry." she apologised again.

"It's okay." he assured.

Reaching her floor first, Alfred hauled his stuff back onto his back, arms full of fruits and vegetables, and followed her down the hall.

"Y-you don't have to!" Kat flustered "You can just leave them here..."

"That's alright." he assured again "It won't take long, and I can't leave your stuff all over the floor."

"Wow, you really are that nice..."

Alfred just smiled, used to this kind of reaction from fans. The door to her place stood open, propped up by a stack of boxes the Kat had to shimmy past, Alfred careful that his large bag didn't knock anything over. The flat was significantly smaller than his, despite being in the same building, with only one floor and all the rooms branching out from the central living area. All the large furniture seemed to be here already, haphazardly strewn about and covered with boxes and bags.

"I'm back!" she called into the echoey rooms "They didn't have the diet drink, so I bought regular one."

There was a loud, theatrical groan from the bathroom.

"My cousin." Kat told Al "Hey, come and say hi to our new neighbour!"

There was an 'ugh!' of disgust from the bathroom, followed by a loud clatter. Kat ignored it and went to the kitchen area, putting her bags on the counter. After a moment, another girl emerged from the bathroom: it was safe to say that she would have been the most beautiful girl Alfred had ever seen, if not for the sour expression on her face.

"Nat, this is America." Kat introduced, not even looking at her cousin as she put her food away.

"Nat and Kat?" Al laughed.

"Natalia and Katyusha." Kat clarified, blushing a little "They're eastern European names, so they're difficult for people here to pronounce."

"Well, I think they're beautiful names." he assured "And I was wondering where that lovely accent was from."

Kat blushed further, while Nat arched an eyebrow in his direction.

"'America'?" she criticised "That can't be your real name."

"It's Alfred." he confirmed, fully acknowledging that not everyone will have heard of him.

"You remember, that video I showed you before." Kat attempted to remind her, appearing beside him "I think it was 'Outlast'?"

"You know I'm not interested in that stupid internet crap you're so obsessed with." Nat grumbled dismissively "Whatever, pleased to meet you, I guess."

Wow, what a bitch. Kat seemed to think so too, judging by the look on her face. Ignoring her, Kat took the items from Alfred and put them down in the kitchen.

"Sorry about her." she said "She was born with a silver spoon up her arse."

"Fuck you!" Nat spat back.

They were interrupted by the movers coming in with more boxes, which thankfully provided the excuse Alfred needed to leave. Natalia stomped back into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, steadfastly refusing to deal with any of it, the movers taking it in stride as they dropped the boxes and left to get more. Kat followed Alfred to the lift, apologising again for Nat's behaviour. Waiting for the lift to come back, she turned to him sheepishly.

"Just in case we never cross paths again..." he said, blushing awkwardly "I just wanted to tell you... your channel really means a lot to me. I went through a rough time a little while ago, and you really helped me through... just hearing your voice, and how kind you are... I'm sorry, I guess that doesn't make a lot of sense..."

"Not at all." Alfred assured her, smiling kindly "I actually hear that from a lot of people, and it makes me happy. I'm glad I could help you."

Kat blushed all the way to her ears, awkward but happy. She laughed self-consciously, trying to hook her hair behind her ears as if used to it being longer.

"Thanks." she said "And sorry."

The lift arrived, and not a moment too son, as the straps on his heavy bag were starting to cut off the circulation in his arms. He pushed the button to keep the door open just a moment longer.

"Don't apologise so much!" he urged her "You seem like a really nice person – I hope we do cross paths at some point. Keep watching the channel, I'll give you a shout-out!"

Kat broke into a gleeful grin as the doors closed, Alfred giving her a little wave. It always made his day when a fan said something so nice, and he was genuinely thrilled to know when his silly videos made a real, positive difference in their lives. He smiled as a warm feeling spread through him, whistling as the door to the lift opened on his floor.

* * *

Around 10pm, Alfred took a break from editing his con footage, going downstairs to get a cup of tea (he was trying not to drink coffee so late at night, since it had started to do funny things to his bowels... was he getting old already?). He hated to admit it, but tea really did taste better when the water was boiled in the kettle rather than a microwave, but would never in a million years tell Arthur that. Whistling to himself as the water boiled, he startled as there was a knock on the door.

Who could it be this time of night? No-one had called to say they were coming over. Cautiously, he went and opened the door, keeping the chain on. Natalia stood in the hall sheepishly, expression far less sour than it had been earlier.

"Hi?" Alfred greeted, not sure what she wanted this time of night.

"Good evening." she answered, tone already apologetic "I just wanted to come by and say... well, I'm sorry for earlier. The way I spoke to you was really rude, and there's no excuse for it, but the move was really stressful, and... y'know... _women's problems_... but that's no excuse. I wanted to say sorry."

"Oh. Alright then, one second."

Alfred closed the door, taking the chain off to open it properly. Nat's entire composure was the exact opposite of what it was before, as she slouched shyly and looked up at him with doe-eyes through her lovely thick lashes.

"I accept your apology." he assured her "Moving can be pretty stressful, and while I can't say I have personal experience of 'womens problems', I do have plenty of women in my family. Why don't we start over? My name's Alfred."

He held out his hand for her to shake, which she did, grip very loose and delicate.

"I'm Natalia." she said "I'll be living in the building from today."

"Let's try to be good neighbours."

She smiled demurely – she and Kat had the same smile, it seemed. Realising she was still holding his hand, she jerked to back, blushing.

"S-sorry." she said "I'm sorry to come by so late. Were you getting ready for bed?"

"Not for a few hours." Alfred admitted "I have a lot of editing to do tonight."

"Then I won't keep you. Thanks you for accepting my apology. Good night."

"Goodnight." he said back.

He waited the regulation amount of time to be polite before closing the door, hoping the water hadn't gotten too cold for him to make tea. Going back to work, it didn't occur to him at all that he hadn't actually told either of his new neighbours which floor he lived on...

* * *

For those who might think that first scene was an odd thing to do - it's based on an actual video shot by Markiplier when he moved (and yes, he did flip off a toilet). It was one of the videos which gave me the inspiration for this story. If I had made a game (as was the original thought behind it), I would have been a clever-dick and put the stalker in the background of shots that seemed really innocuous, such as the supermarket he went to in the first chapter, or walking down the street when he went out. I also would have made his house in the game look as much as possible like his actual place - since he went and showed everyone what it looked like anyway.

If I had pulled it off, it would have been really, really creepy. Probably best that I didn't make it a game :/ Always love your reviews!


	6. Chapter 6 Let's Be Friends

Sorry for the delay, folks! My keyboard went to technology hell, so I needed to get a new one. The good news is, my new one is really nice and works like a dream! Anyway, enough about me, one with the show!

* * *

**Let's Be Friends.**

Alfred balanced his groceries in one arm, his other hand holding his phone up to his ear. It was such a nice day that he had chosen to walk to the shops instead of driving, but as usual his eyes were bigger than his stomach, and he had ended up buying far too much. Luckily the shops weren't too far from his building, and the bright, warm day put him in a good mood, so he didn't mind the exercise. Fumbling with his keys in his already laden hand, he pushed the front door open with his hips, the air conditioning in the lobby too cold for his liking.

"I know it's a really popular game, but it's pretty old." he mentioned "I don't really want to be that kind of let's player."

"I understand what you mean," Ivan agreed on the other end of the line "But the release schedule's dried up, and there's nothing good coming out for a while. Even the indie stuff is pretty lax right now. The choice is to do something old or go on hiatus until something good comes out."

"Yeah, I don't think I can pay my bills in subscribers."

"I'd never have to work again!"

The two laughed at their antics as Alfred got to the lift, where another man was already waiting. Upon hearing Alfred's raucous laughter, the man looked around, grimacing at the sight of him. He smiled apologetically for his loudness, mouthing 'sorry.' The bespectacled man just looked away, still grimacing.

"I think a 'versus' series would be a good angle." Ivan went on "We've all played co-op a lot, so seeing us go head-to-head might play on the whole rivalry things our fan have."

"I don't know if I want to encourage that." Alfred admitted "The guys that buy into that get pretty crazy."

"True." Ivan conceded.

"Although I like the 'race to the finish' angle, you think the server will be reliable enough for recording? It kept crashing on Iceland and Norway when they tried to play it."

The lift arrived, the doors opening with the customary 'ding' of the bell. Both men entered, the man in glasses still refusing to look at him.

"That's true." Ivan said thoughtfully "How about a couple of practice videos – 'who can build the best castle', or something. If it works out, we'll have the fans yelling at us for doing the same thing at the same time, then WHAM! We reveal it was all a part of the plan, and we were on the same map the whole time!"

"Yeah, I like that!"

Alfred started laughing again, earning him another glare. Growing uncomfortable, he decided it was probably time to hang up.

"Hey man, I'll call you back in 15 minutes." he promised Ivan "Gotta put my groceries away."

"Sure, I'll take a look at the system requirements in the meantime." he agreed "Bye."

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Alfred smiled sheepishly, but the man seemed unimpressed by his manners. Alfred thanked god as the lift door opened, revealing a familiar face.

"Oh!" Kat exclaimed at the sight of him "Alfred! Good afternoon!"

"Hi, Kat." he greeted "On your way out?"

"No, just fetching this one." she admitted, gesturing to the grumpy man beside him "Hi sweetie, did you have any trouble finding the place?"

"No thanks to Nat's directions." he told her.

Kat stood it the way of the lift door, keeping it open as she grabbed her friends arm, pulling him close.

"Alfred, this is my boyfriend, Eduard." she told him "Isn't he peachy? He's a big fan of yours too!"

"He is?" Alfred wondered.

"No I'm not." Eduard grumbled, looking away again.

"Oh, ignore him." Kat insisted "He's just grumpy because his web series didn't go anywhere."

Eduard blushed all the way to his ears, mouth flapping open in embarrassment as if to argue his case, but finding no words. Kat ignored him, attention still on Alfred.

"Are you busy this afternoon?" she asked "I've got some friends coming by for a kind of 'house warming' lunch type thing. Nothing too formal, just hanging out. We've got tasty food and we're going to play Smash Brothers. You should come by."

"If I have a spare moment, then sure!" Alfred agreed politely "I never can say no to free food."

"Okay, great!" Kat enthused, pulling Eduard from the lift finally "We'll save you a plate!"

She waved at him as the lift door closed. He would probably be too busy to go, but good manners cost nothing. Feeling his ice-cream started to go soft in the bag, he hurried back to his flat to put it in the freezer.

* * *

The practice videos went very well – only two crashes, which was a lot better than Iceland and Norway's experience playing the game. Ivan and Alfred continued to chat as they went about their business, waiting for their footage to download to their hard-drives.

"Alright, how are we going to edit these?" Alfred asked, headphones still on as he threw his clothes into the washing machine "We need to make sure people don't know we're playing together yet."

"Just got a text from Francis." Ivan told him, making a sandwich back at his place "Arthur's lost his voice again."

"Haha, idiot. Probably playing Surgeon Simulator again."

"Francis said it was Octodad."

"Even better!" Alfred laughed.

"I just texted him." Ivan told him, voice muffled by his mouth full of sandwich "He says he'll edit for us."

"Hey, awesome! His edits always turn out amazing."

"Yeah, but you pay for the privilege." Ivan sighed.

"If I could edit as well as him, I'd charge that much too." Al admitted, getting the fabric softener from the cupboard.

"Do you get any discount for being his brother?"

Alfred snorted.

"No." he laughed "I just get more shit when my footage isn't up to snuff – I've had to re-record things a few times before that he threw back at me. You remember when I played Outlast? It was too scary for me to edit, so I asked Arthur to do it – I ended up having to play most of it again!"

"If I recall correctly, it was that series that made your name." Ivan pointed out "It's still on of your best."

"Yeah, and I still have nightmares!"

"You baby." Ivan laughed "Hey, my footage is done downloading, so I'm gonna email it over. I'm gonna see if I can get another video out today – I was thinking about Stranded Deep."

"Yeah? I stopped playing that ages ago."

"You should pick it up again – there's been a lot of updates. They have whales now!"

"Sure, I'll think about it." Alfred laughed "Talk to you later."

"See ya."

Ivan hung up, and Alfred took his headphones off. His footage should be done any minute too, so he turned on his washing machine and trotted back to his office. The second it was finished, he emailed it to his brother, asking for the usual full invoice to satisfy the tax man. He stretched out his sore shoulders, wondering if he too could get another video out, but as he said to Ivan before, he didn't want to tread over old ground. He was hearing good things about Life is Strange, but he didn't have the energy for that kind of long sit today.

The doorbell went. Not expecting anyone, Alfred was a little confused, but went to answer it anyway. He was pleasantly surprised to find Nat waiting for him, wearing a dress that was more 'evening' than 'afternoon', with a just noticeable amount of make-up.

"Hi, Nat." he greeted "How's it going?"

"My prince didn't come to rescue me, so I thought I'd come to him." she said coquettishly.

"Pardon?"

"I was counting on you to rescue me from Kat and her crazy fanboy friends." she elaborated "They're a bit much on my own, but I thought you being there might make it fun."

"Oh... sorry!" Alfred said "I was working! I didn't realise you guys were actually waiting for me..."

"Are you still working?"

"No, I just finished." he admitted.

"Then how about you come? We've got plenty of food, and if you don't want to play videogames with those idiots, we can watch movies in my room."

"You shouldn't call your friends 'idiots', Nat." Alfred picked up.

"They're not my friends." she muttered bitterly "And for what it's worth, I prefer 'Natalya."

She flipped her hair back, fluttering her eye lashes – even Alfred was smart enough to pick up on her flirting. Man, she really was pretty...

"So, what do you say?" she asked "Want to come and save me from a night of boredom?"

"Well... sure." he figured "Just give me ten minutes to get changed."

"Sure." she agreed, blushing happily "Maybe put on some trousers?"

Alfred's heart jumped into his chest – he never recorded with his trousers on, so had spent that last few minutes talking to a very pretty girl in nothing but his t-shirt and underwear. Natalya giggled as his face lit up like a Christmas tree, throwing his door closed with yelled apologies. Ten minutes later he reopened the door, more suitably attired, and was surprised to find her still waiting there, leant patiently against the wall.

"Shall we go?"

* * *

Even amongst the ranks of nerds and fandoms, the difference between girls and boys places was very noticeable: girls always kept their places so nice, with pretty accessories and nice furniture that didn't look like it belonged to a 12-year-old boy. Kat and Natalya's place was cluttered, but still managed to look clean and nice, both girly and nerdy and surprisingly homey for only being there a few days. Alfred liked it.

"Hey, welcome!" Kat called as she poked her head out of the living room "You made it!"

"Yeah." Alfred confirmed "I finished work, and I remember something about you having food."

"Of course." Kat laughed "Why don't you wait with the boys in the living room and I'll fix you a plate. Nat, did you get the dip?"

"Hm? Dip?"

"Nat!" Kat yelled "God dammit, we sent you out for one thing! One thing! You can't even do that?!"

"It's just dip!" Natalya yelled back "It's not like you need it anyway!"

"I have dip at my place." Alfred offered sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it." Kat sighed in exasperation "I'll just make a salsa. Make yourself at home, okay?"

She gestured him into the flat, going to the kitchen area. Natalya stuck to him as they went to the living room, finding a small group loitering around the cramped room. They looked around as they saw him.

"OH MY GOD!" one declared, jumping up "It's true!"

"Ravis!" another scolded, also standing "That's rude!"

"Oh my god, I'm sorry." Ravis apologised, stars in his eyes as he looked up at Alfred (what a little fella...) "I can't believe I'm actually meeting America! I was so totally bummed about missing the convention to help Kat move, but now it's like we're having our own mini convention and we've got you all to ourselves!"

"Ravis, button it." Eduard scolded, also having stood "Sorry about him, he suffers from a terminal case of verbal diarrhoea."

"It's okay, I've seen worse." Alfred assured, turning to Ravis "And please, just call me Alfred."

Something in Ravis' mind exploded in happiness. The last man held out his hand formally.

"I'm Toris." he explained "It's a pleasure to meet you. You might have guessed, but we're all big fans of yours."

"Yes, that did come up." Al laughed, shaking his hand "And the pleasure's all mine!"

"Okay guys, pause the game, it's food time!" Kat declared, appearing behind them with arms full of plates "Get it while it's hot!"

The boys complied, clearing the coffee table of games and glasses for her, and they settled around on the sofas and seats. Alfred knew that after the initial star-stuck wonder, fans always settled down and acted normally – this group was no exception, and they soon sat around chatting casually. It turned out they all worked at the same restaurant, where Kat was one of the chefs, Eduard was the manager and Ravis, Toris and Natalya were serving staff, and they had bonded over their mutual love of games and assorted geekdom, and especially over Alfred's videos (which always made him happy to hear).

The group was so lively, it took Alfred a while to realise that Natalya wasn't talking or eating anything, just sat next to him with her arms crossed.

"Not eating again, Natalya?" Toris asked her politely, blushing a little as she looked at him.

"I'm not hungry." she replied bluntly "And I don't really care for party food."

"Well, it's nice that you're here anyway." he said "Even though it must be boring for you."

"I'm glad you picked up on that."

Natalya sure had a way of stopping a conversation in its tracks. When they were done eating, they settled in to play a tournament of multiplayer games, the winner being the only one who didn't have chip in to buy dessert later.

"So, is it true all you guys went to college together?" Toris asked as he and Alfred played Mario Kart.

"Almost all, yes." he confirmed "But we were in different years – I think Yao was in his last year when my brother was in his first, and then I was two years after him, and some of the guys we met online. We used to make sketches and stuff at first, like dance videos and vines and stuff, but we all found our niches and branched out: it was a lot of fun back then! Not that it's not fun now, of course!"

"Yes, I saw those videos!" Kat laughed "You look like a baby in them! How old were you?"

"I must have been 17, maybe 18." he laughed back "I really did look like a baby!"

"Has your brother ever been in a video?" Ravis asked.

"Yeah, tons – he's England, he and Japan have this whole duo thing going on."

"No way, England is your brother?" Toris confirmed "You look nothing alike!"

"Oh yeah? How about now?"

Alfred held three fingers up to his eyebrows, letting Princess Peach crash into a wall and lose the race, and pulled a grumpy expression.

"God-dammit, Mama, I followed the recipe exactly!" he shrieked, mimicking his brother almost exactly "This game cheats!"

The group burst out laughing. Even Natalya cracked a smile.

Having lost the tournament, Kat was the one to go and get the ice-cream: it took her ages to get back, claiming there had been a massive queue at the gelato place. Excusing himself to go to the bathroom, Alfred politely ignored the bottles and blister packs of medication with long, serious-sounding names that were gathered on one side of the sink. As he came out, he was startled to find Natalya waiting for him.

"Just letting you know that I'm off to bed." she told him "I thought it would be impolite not to say goodbye."

"That's okay." he assured, noting that it was still kind of early "I'm not sure that I really 'saved' you from anything, but tonight's been fun."

"Oh, you saved my plenty." she said "That Toris is such a creeper, he's always drooling over me, and Kat can be so mean – you saw how she yelled at me earlier. Anyway, you being here made the night much more bearable – thank you."

"Not at all." Alfred repeated "It was fun."

Nat darted forward, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and fled to her room, pausing at the door just long enough for Alfred to see her blushing. She wasn't much of a conversationalist, but she sure was cute...

"Hey, Alfred!" Kat called from the living room door, startling him away from his thought "You fall in or something?"

* * *

After a few more hours playing, Alfred felt like it was time to go home. Even though he hadn't done anything he wouldn't normally do, he felt like he had had a lot of fun with his neighbours. Despite what Natalya had said, they didn't seem to be all that unusual, but he guessed he just didn't know them very well yet.

He yawned as the lift door opened, reaching into his pocket for his keys. Could he wait until tomorrow to answer all his messages? He was super tired, but there was still little bits of work to do. He fiddled with his keys, finding the right one as he approached the door.

He stopped short.

The door was open.

Not noticeably open, but just ajar enough that it swayed subtly as he got close. Had he forgotten to close it? He never forgot to lock it, not any more. He strained his ears, but there was no sound inside. He opened the door silently, getting the bat from the umbrella stand, and crept into his flat. He took the place room by room, flicking on the lights and creeping through quieter than he ever had in his life, but found nothing. Nothing even seemed to be disturbed.

Well, almost nothing – his washing, which he had left in the machine, had been arranged onto the clothes horse in his kitchen and left to dry. Making sure the door was locked and bolted, Alfred went to check on the security camera feed – the computer refused to turn on. Kneeling down to check the plug, his stomach sunk when he recalled unplugging it to put the hoover around the other day... he must not have put it back in... Sure enough, upon getting it restarted, the last video was from nearly a week ago. Idiot!

He checked every cupboard and crawlspace, every nook and cranny, but nothing was missing. Not taking any chances, Alfred packed his overnight bag, locked his door, and left.

* * *

Some of you have guessed who the stalker is. Others have not. I'm not spoiling anything :) Needless to say, it's not over for poor Alfie yet!


	7. Chapter 7 Telling the Truth

People have some very interesting theories about who's who in this story, and I just love reading them! I especially love it when you get them wrong, because it means I'm doing my job of misdirecting you. Anyway, please enjoy this offering!

* * *

**Telling the Truth.**

Arthur had some pretty strong words for Alfred when he admitted to turning his CCTV off, and while he knew he deserved them, the decibels he reached still made him cringe. As before, they went through the place room by room, looking in the corners, behind the pictures and under the furniture, but found nothing untoward.

"Are you entirely sure you didn't put your washing out yourself?" Yao asked as he inspected the now dry garments "It's just as creased as when you do it."

"Very." Alfred assured "I was at my neighbours all evening. I got home and the door was open."

"Are these neighbours completely trustworthy?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know. They seem to be, I guess, I don't know them very well. Why?"

"Because there are no tool marks on the door." he pointed out, knelt in front of it examining the keyhole "Either you left the door unlocked, or they had your keys."

"No, I never leave it unlocked!" Alfred knew instantly "Not after... y'know...Peggy..."

No-one said anything. Not that dead puppies were ever funny, but Alfred's friends knew not to bring up poor Peggy, lest they set him off into floods of tears again. He hugged himself as the memories flooded back.

"I most definitely did not leave it unlocked." he said again.

"Then I recommend you never talk to those neighbours again." Arthur said certainly "It's possible one of them took your keys – you know they fall out of your pocket sometimes."

Alfred went cold – sure enough, he had almost left without them last night, finding them sitting on the floor of the bathroom before he went home. No-one had said anything, and they had all seemed so nice, but there was no way he had left his door unlocked. He had often been told he was a terrible judge of character, but he really thought they were okay people.

"If I may say something unpopular," Kiku postured "I think it's possible this may not be SchizoDoll."

They all looked around at him as he finished checking the files on the computer and backing everything up.

"Considering her actions before, doesn't it seem odd that she would put his washing out?" he mentioned "Doesn't that seem a little maternal for someone who... killed a puppy?"

"Who knows what crazy stalkers think?" Yao spat, completely dismissing the idea "Besides, no woman who wasn't crazy would hang clothes like this – all of these need to be ironed now, including the socks!"

"I think Yao is right." Francis agreed as he finished checking the downstairs bathroom "Kiku is giving her too much credit. One stalker is unfortunate, but two? I don't buy it."

There was a murmur of uncomfortable agreement as Ivan returned with his tools and extra locks to fit. Alfred was NOT going to let things turn out the same way again.

"Thanks for your help, guys." he said earnestly "I'm sorry this shit is happening again."

"It's not your fault." Francis assured.

"Just make sure you nip it in the bud right quick this time." Arthur said certainly "Don't ever talk to those people again."

"No fear." Al assured "At least there was no real damage this time."

Or so he thought. It wasn't until later that afternoon, when Alfred sat down to work, that he discovered that his washing wasn't the only thing she had messed with. As he sat down to answer his messages, he found himself unable to log on to his Facebook account. Or his Twitter account. Nor Instagram, nor Tumblr, nor Gmail, even his Youtube account – his bread and butter! He usually just left everything logged on for convenience sake, but not only was everything logged out, all his passwords were coming up as incorrect.

With a horrid sinking feeling in his gut, he set about resetting them all, which took the better part of the afternoon. Half way through, he started getting texts from people who had received odd messages from him, asking if he was okay. If it wasn't for the security questions, Alfred wasn't sure he would ever have gotten his accounts back – SchizoDoll apparently didn't think to change those after taking over his accounts, but that was one of the few things she didn't change.

Almost half of his videos had been deleted, and in their place had been uploaded hardcore porn, copyrighted content (including Disney movies and Nintendo games) and what could only be described as animal torture. His Instagram was full of graphic close-ups of vaginas and breasts (and not all from the same woman), his Facebook and Tumblr infested with expletive-filled paranoid rants and links to things so vile that even 4chan wouldn't host them.

The one ray of light was that his fans seemed to be smart enough to realise he had been hacked – most of them, anyway. Some decried the new posts as him 'finally showing his true colours', but be tried his best to ignore them as he went about fixing the damage. Just removing the posts and videos took all night – he tried to read them at first, looking for some clue as to who or where she may be, but they were no nonsensical and disturbing, he soon gave up completely.

Someone from Youtube contacted him – an actual flesh and blood person, which almost never happened – just to see if he was okay. After assuring them that it was a genuine case of hacking (including his other social networking sites), they let him off with a strongly worded warning, complete with an attached PDF on how to stay safe online.

It was nearly midnight when he finally finished clearing everything: SchizoDoll had been a busy girl. It would take him nearly a week to personally apologise to everyone she had sent horrible messages to – particularly his female fans, who she had been especially vicious towards, sending them messages which made her original offending post of months ago look like a poetic love letter in comparison – so he posted general apologies on all sites, explaining the problem to anyone who hadn't already guessed.

**Eagle2:** Oh My God, Alfred, are you okay? This hacker seriously took things too far – what were they trying to do?

T**hecakeisalie:** you're so lucky – you could've goten baned from everywhere!

**2pAmerica:** yeah right, blame a hacker – like you didn't just get drunk and post whatever you wanted! Tell the truth!

**Kumajiro:** make sure you use different passwords this time! And don't use the same passwords for different sites! They didn't get into your bank as well, did they?

About one in the morning Alfred got a call from Kiku, apologising profusely.

"I was so preoccupied with checking the hard-drive for viruses, I didn't even think to check your social media!"

"It's not your fault." Alfred assured "It didn't occur to me, either. I'm just glad you backed up all my files, half my videos are gone from my channel!"

"I'll bring around the back-up drive tomorrow." he promised "We can have them re-uploaded soon enough."

"Is Arthur pissed?"

"Not at you – you know how your brother is." Kiku said "What damage control are you doing?"

"I've already posted some text stuff." Al told him "I'm gonna make a vlog before bed, just to be perfectly clear on the subject."

"Good idea." he agreed "But I'm sure you're going to lose some fans over this anyway."

"Blowing my nose the wrong way loses me fans some days." he figured "My real concern is everyone on my private email who she sent messages to – she even sent shit to my mother! Not to mention my gas and electric suppliers..."

"It's a real mess." Kiku sympathised "I'll be around about 10 tomorrow, if that's okay, so we can at least get that one thing sorted out."

"Thanks, man. See you tomorrow."

* * *

Sometimes being the youngest of so many brothers had its perks – upon hearing SchizoDoll had even tried to mess with his utilities, Arthur came over to help smooth out the mess, reinstating the contracts she had cancelled and mass emailing the various business contacts that had received odd and inappropriate messages yesterday.

"Good god, does this woman ever sleep? How did she do so much in 18 hours?" he grumbled, hanging up the phone to Alfred's internet provider in one hand and typing up an apology for a charity Alfred had donated a few thousand to with the other "Al, make me some tea."

"I don't have any tea." he admitted.

"Go buy some."

"Anything else, your highness?"

"I would also like some snacks." Kiku said, up to his eyes and video uploads "I think there's a twenty in my wallet."

"Don't worry about it." Alfred sighed, getting up from the desk chair "My treat, for all the trouble."

"In that case, get me some lunch too." Arthur added "Subway or something."

"Fuck you." Al grumbled, although he planned on getting it anyway.

Being the youngest brother had it's downsides too – Alfred was sure he could have done everything Arthur was doing himself with just as much success, and having his big brother do it for him made him feel infantilised more than a little, like he didn't trust him to do it correctly. That being said, there was a lot of it, and it was sure saving him a lot of hassle... Swallowing his pride, he grabbed his wallet, locking Arthur and Kiku in as he went to the shop.

He held his breath as the lift passed Kat and Natalya's floor, but thankfully it didn't stop. Now he just had to avoid them on the way back, fingers crossed. He really hoped that the guys were wrong, and they weren't involved, if only because it would make living here so awkward for him. He just got settled, he didn't want to have to move again.

Since it was a nice day and the stress was giving him a headache, he decided that a walk would do him some good. The shops weren't that far anyway, and he could use the cardio. He stopped, however, when a familiar pretty blonde head was spotted at the corner of the street right in the direction he needed to go. Well, shit. Would Natalya notice him? She stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, legs pressed together, shoulders tight and shaking slightly. Was... was she crying?

Ugh... he was a hero, but... it wasn't wise, under the circumstances... but c'mon, she was crying! To hero, or not to hero... uuuuuuuggggghhhhhhh! Alfred sighed miserably – if he was going to regret something, it may as well be doing the right thing. He walked over, hearing her sniffing and gasping as she cried quietly to herself, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he thought of what to say.

"Hey, Natalya?" he called gently "You okay?"

The girl startled, spinning around – her mascara was running down her cheeks, eyes red and swollen. She just looked at him a moment, eyes wide and tearful, before leaping into his arms, openly wailing into his chest. Initially shocked, he wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back comfortingly.

* * *

Sat on the fountain in the park nearby, Alfred handed Natalya the bottle of water, sitting down next to her.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you." she replied, voice still quiet "I'm sorry you had to see me that way. My face must have been a real mess."

"Is it too personal for me to ask what happened?"

"No, it's just... just the same shit as ever." Natalya sighed, taking a big gulp from her water "Kat and I used to be really close – we were like sisters, we did everything together – but it's like I don't even know her anymore. She started behaving real strange a while back, doing and saying some really messed up things, things you wouldn't believe."

"Oh yeah?" Alfred asked.

"Turns out she's schizophrenic." she summarised "She started these really heavy drugs to stop her doing crazy shit all the time, but they totally warped her personality. Then she met Eduard and his sleazy dork friends and put on all that weight, and she doesn't see the problem with any of it! We can't even talk any more, all she does is scream at me! I can't stand it! I can't stand living with her! I can't stand what she's become!"

Natalya buried her face in her hands, breathing in deeply as she tried not to cry again. Alfred put a reassuring arm around her shoulders, letting her lean into him.

"I hate this!" she sobbed "This isn't what I wanted at all..."

"I'm sorry, honey." he soothed, rubbing her shoulder "I saw all those pills in the bathroom, but I didn't want to ask."

"It's hell!" she told him "She's crazy! I want my Kat back, the one I used to play with as a kid, the one who used to be fun and nice – I don't even _know_ this Kat!"

"I'm sorry." he said again "It must be really tough for you."

She sniffed a few more times, breathing deeply to calm herself down, and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry to be pushy, but... would it be okay to hang at your place for a while?" she asked "I don't really want to go home right now."

Eep. His throat tightened as she looked up at him with those big light eyes, still slightly red and full of expectation.

"I-I'm sorry." he stammered, taking his arm off her shoulder "That's not really possible right now."

"Are you decorating or something?" she asked, confused expression on her face "I don't mind a mess."

"That's not the issue." he told her "I'm crazy busy today, and I've got a whole ton of work to do and some people have even come over to help me, so-"

Natalya stood suddenly, startling him a little as she clenched her hands.

"You don't have to make up excuses!" she nearly yelled at him, eyes starting to well up with tears again "Especially a weak one like that! If you don't want to spend time with me, just say so! I thought you were my friend, but if you're going to start lying-!"

"That's not true!" Alfred insisted, waving his hands in protest "It's not that I don't want to spend time with you, I really am just busy!"

"Busy doing what?! Don't you set your own hours?! Can't you take a day off, even for me?!"

"It's not really like that-!"

"Then what is it like!?"

Alfred was lost for words. With mostly men as friends, plus working from home, he had forgotten how sensitive women could be: she looked genuinely upset and he wasn't sure why, be he knew it was his duty to try and put it right. Backed into a corner, he told her about his hacking problem, admitting to his stalking issue when she prompted him for more information. She sat back down, hand going to her mouth in concern as she listened.

"She killed your puppy?!" she gasped "That's awful! Why would anybody do that?!"

"I try not to think about the 'why'." Alfred answered "It's enough to drive you nuts, trying to figure it out."

"Alfred, that's terrible..." she said "Wait... if you were being stalked, why did you post that video about moving house? Isn't that kind of a stupid thing to do?"

"It's not stupid." Al defended, pouting slightly "I figured that if she knew I wasn't there, she wouldn't break in again and bother whoever was living there now: I know someone is living there, since people were being shown around as I was moving out. I was just thinking of them..."

Natalya gave him the 'oh honey' look, smiling at the corners of her mouth. She clearly thought he was an idiot. However, she sighed in resignation, swinging her legs a little over the side of the fountain.

"Okay, I get it." she said "You really are busy. I guess popular guys like you have all sorts of problems, don't they?"

She laughed through her nose, smiling at him again.

"Thanks for listening to me anyway." she said "You're a good friend. Maybe, when all this is over, we can get a drink or something?"

"Sure." Alfred agreed, heart fluttering a little as she batted her eyelashes at him "I'd like that."

* * *

Alfred got a scolding for going home empty handed, having completely forgotten the reason he went outside in the first place. Instead of sending him out again, they decided to order in for dinner, spending nearly an hour and a half discussing what to have. Al went to answer the door as the bell rung, it not clicking in his head that he hadn't buzzed anyone into the building, and was surprised to find that it was not two large pizzas with pop and wedges waiting for him, but Kat and Eduard, arms laden with lunchboxes. Eduard pulled the same sour face as before, but Kat smiled at him in her usual friendly manner.

"Afternoon, Alfred!" she greeted.

"Hi...?" he greeted back.

"Sorry to pop up out of the blue." Kat said, blushing awkwardly "I know you're super busy right now, what with the hacking and all. How's things going with that?"

"Slowly." he admitted "The internet here's not great, and youtube thinks I'm spamming, uploading so many in one day."

"That's some scary business." she sympathised "But as scary as that time you got SWAT-ed, but still scary."

"Yeah... so, what can I do for you?"

"Oh!" she recalled "Duh, of course. Here!"

She handed him her armful of lunchboxes, signalling for Eduard to so the same.

"We knew you'd be busy trying to sort this out, and I wanted to make sure you were eating properly, so we put a little something together for you." Kat told him "Just a few bits and pieces from our menu to tide you over – you can't eat nothing but junk food just because you're busy, you know!"

"Oh!" Alfred gasped, snuggling a little under the weight of all that food "Th-thank you! You shouldn't have!"

"It's not trouble!" she assured, waving off his concerns "We were cooking anyway, it was no problem to make some more. But we've kept you long enough!"

She took Eduard's arm, herding him back down the hall.

"Good luck!" she finished "You know where we are if you need anything!"

"Uh... sure... thanks again!"

Kat waved, Eduard still grimacing as they left, Alfred shutting the door with his feet. This stuff was heavy and still warm, making the bare skin on his arms burn a little, so he scurried to the kitchen to put them down on the table. Curious, be broke one open, and to his delight it smelled _really_ good. Feeling his tummy rumbling, he decided to take a bite, only to be startled by the intercom buzzing harshly as the pizza finally arrived

* * *

As the title may suggest, everyone in this chapter told the truth. But there's _a_ truth, and then there's _the_ truth...


	8. Chapter 8 Changing Targets

This chapter's getting released a little early this week, since I've got a busy weekend ahead. Despite that, it'c actually the longest chapter yet! Those who get squeamish over blood, prepare yourself for the end of the chapter...

* * *

**Changing Targets**

Arthur threw the food Kat had given Alfred straight in the bin, which felt like blasphemy somehow, but neither Alfred nor Kiku argued with him. It was a damn shame, though – it smelled _really_ good. Between the three of them and a boatload of caffeine, all Alfred's videos were back online within a few days. The internet media were having a field day, with TMZ digging up any dirty laundry it could find, claiming it was the revenge attack of a spurned ex-girlfriend; gaming news sites were happy to blame black hat hackers, despite a few lone attention-seekers on 4chan and such claiming responsibility; while the gamer-gaters threw blame from one female let's player/gamer/reviewer to another with the sense and abandon of the most die-hard moon landing and 9/11 conspiracy theorists.

They were all silenced after a few days, when the real perpetrator happily made herself known in what can only be described as a tirade of abuse the scale of which hadn't been seen since Anita Sarkeesian. SchizoDoll was far less picky about her targets, although she did openly favour commenters that appeared to be female: she was like a machine, a factory line of insult and rant generators churning out a new diatribe every few minutes for hours on end. Everything he posted, every video, picture, comment, reply to a comment, there she was within seconds of the first reply, hollaring in all caps and bad spelling.

**SchizoDollReturns:** WHO THE FUCK DO U THIN CANT TALK TO AMERICA U BASIC HAG! UR RUINING HS LIFE UR RUINING EVERYONES LIFES WHY DONT U JUST GO KIL URSELF

Needless to say, she caught peoples attention. Insulting so many people with such passion, she was soon reported and had her accounts banned, but like a hydra, the second the staff had one account closed, she had three more up and waiting.

**SchizoDollRetribution:** WOW U R SUCH A PATHETIC WHORE ITS EMBARRASING 2 B U. U THINK THIS LOOKS GUD? DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH IVE SEEN 5 YEAAR OLDS DRAW BETA THINGS WITH THEIR OWN SHIT.

It was making headlines soon enough – gaming and internet headlines, anyway. People were discussing it on forums, writing thousand word tumblr posts and even articles on it. A few people approached Alfred for comment or an appearance on their news site, but he was too busy getting bogged down in the chaos to reply, trying his best to stem the tidal wave of comments and complaints.

**SchizoDollQueenofAll:** OMG U THINK U R FUNNY THATS SO FUCKING PATHETIC. GO HANG URSELF U FAILED ABORTION.

While commenting on the internet is often compared to yelling into the void, SchizoDoll seemed to be yelling loud enough to get a reaction out of it. Other than the massive angry backlash against her, the entirety of which couldn't even keep up with her banned and recreated accounts, people soon stopped commenting on his stuff – of course there were a few vultures who came to his videos just to see the unfolding chaos, and a few sad trolls who decided to get in on it, but both were equally shouted down, unable to match her sheer lunacy.

The final straw came for Alfred after reading one particularly vile comment involving miscarriages, disabled babies and rape in a sequence best left undescribed. He posted hiatus messages on all his accounts, logged off and shut his computer down, sitting in uncomfortable silence for nearly five minutes, staring at the black screen. He felt heavy, drained, like he was getting over the flu. He couldn't believe what he had just read... At least with him on hiatus, there would be no new comments for her to latch on to. Hopefully.

He was bought back to the here and now when he phone rang. Picking it off the side, he was relieved to see Ivan's name on the screen, rather than the 'unknown number' of the hundreds of nuisance calls he was getting every day.

"Hello?" he answered, massaging the bridge of his nose as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"You sound like shit." Ivan said "I saw your hiatus notice – it's getting that bad, huh?"

"Not even the half of it." Alfred admitted.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I mean... I have some savings, but it's not bottomless, and I get the feeling SchizoDoll can keep doing this much longer than I can."

"Have you thought about disabling the comments?" Ivan suggested.

"I can't do that." Al sighed "It's the main way I communicate with my fans. Besides that, it's not just YouTube – it's Facebook, it's Instagram, it's Tumblr... she's everywhere! If I shut them all down, disable my comments... even if the fans I have understood why, it'd cost me a lot: getting new fans would be next to impossible, and my current fans would be angry about the change."

Alfred sighed again. Ivan made the 'hmm' noise he always did when he was nodding.

"You know what I think you should do?" he said.

"What's that?" Al asked.

"Keep recording." he suggested "That way, when the hiatus ends, you'll have a good catalogue to fall back on."

"I dunno." Alfred admitted "I'm not really feeling the funny right now. No-one likes a sad clown."

"Getting out of your environment will help." Ivan thought "Come to my place for a few days. We'll eat junk food, have a few drinks – bring your gear, we'll finish our tourney and record some episodes of drunk GMOD. What do you say?"

"That does sound good." he admitted "Would you mind if we didn't record, though? For today, at least."

"Sure." Ivan conceded "Today we'll get drunk and scream at the wind, tomorrow we'll start recording. That suit you?"

"Yeah." Al agreed "Thanks, man."

"No problem. It takes you about an hour to get here, right?"

"With all my gear... hour and a half, maybe two." he thought "Plenty of time for you to get another video or two ready for Arthur."

"You know me so well." Ivan laughed "I'll see you soon."

* * *

Getting everything to the car took a few trips, and a lot of locking and unlocking of doors, looking over his shoulder at every noise and shadow. He took his old tower unit, since it was smaller and more portable than the monster machine that was his current set up, packing it securely into his boot. He finally went back for his clothes, locking the place down like fort knox – going so far as to turn off all the plugs and flip the breaker – before heading to Ivan's. He would normally laugh at himself for such precaution, but right now... He triple checked the door before leaving.

Being the middle of a weekday, he didn't see anyone in the lift, but the threat of the unknown lingered over him the entire time, like Schrödinger's spider sat right on his neck. In the lobby, he stopped briefly to clear out his postbox, jumping right out of his skin when the front door opened. Looking around defensively, he saw Kat wander in, arms around her stomach, pale and puffy like she was coming down with the flu, or had been crying for two weeks solid. She looked like someone had just smacked her in the face with her own dead cat, green around the gills and breathing erratically. Compassion overwhelmed common sense, and Alfred locked up his post box before going over, steadying her as she swayed on her feet.

"Kat, are you okay?" he asked, catching her by the shoulder "You look terrible..."

"Yeah... work sent me home..." she admitted, not looking at him "Can't cook for people when you're sick..."

She finally looked around. Her eyes were hazy as she pulled a confused expression.

"Alfred? Sorry... I thought you were the pigeon..."

"... pardon?"

"Don't make fun of me!" she practically screamed at him, jumping out his grip "You always do this, you always make fun of me! This is why I hate you!"

"Kat-!" Al started, holding up his hands defensively.

"Shut up! I'm not talking to you!" she bellowed, grabbing her head like a bolt of electricity had just hit it "It hurts... it hurts... uuuuggh. I just want to go to sleep... let me go to sleep."

"K-Kat..."

"I said shut up! You're one of them! You've always been one of them, wearing a lizard mask and walking around like you're normal – I've got your game! Come near me and I'll fucking stab you!"

"Okay!" Al agreed, still holding his hands up and backing away "I'm not near you!"

"Alfred..." she whined, grabbing her stomach again "I feel so sick... what's wrong with me? I haven't slept in a week... I've never been this bad..."

"D... do you need me to call someone? Eduard? Natalya? A doctor?"

"I need you to fuck off!" she screamed at him "Go away, and take those frogs with you! Those colours make me sick! You make me sick! I hate you! Don't touch me!"

Kat turned on her heels and ran full pelt for the lift, slamming the button and looking behind her with the abject terror of someone being chased by an axe murderer. Alfred was honestly flabbergasted, rooted to the spot. Before he needed to respond, the front door burst open again, Eduard rushing in, resolutely ignoring Alfred and catching the lift door just before it closed. He could still hear Kat yelling at him as the lift went up.

He... he didn't know what to say. Natalya hadn't been lying about her being schizophrenic, had she? He had never encountered it before, and he wasn't sure how to respond. At least she wasn't alone... Resolved of responsibility for her, her quietly left, filing the experience away under things he wasn't going to forget any time soon.

* * *

Staying with Ivan was just what Alfred needed – despite saying they wouldn't record on the first day, they soon broke out the camera that night for a session of drunk Sing Stars: it sounded like a whole bag of cats being drowned, but they had a lot of fun. Ivan was pretty serious about his work, but he knew how to have fun, and enjoyed making Alfred laugh until he ran out of breath, so recording with him was always a good experience.

It was strange for Alfred, being away from his fans for so long. Not replying to any comments, sharing any pictures, editing new content... he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. What had he done with his time before YouTube? Ivan found ways to keep him busy, being it recording, playing with his enormous and ridiculously fluffy cat or catching up on other peoples videos while Ivan was busy tending to his own fans.

The last day Alfred was there, he sat on the sofa with Ivan's cat on his lap, purring like a motorbike engine as it lay on its back, letting him stroke its belly. Was it a girl cat or a boy cat? It was impossible to tell under all this fur! It was very docile, whatever it was. At the computer, Ivan sighed through his nose unhappily, frowning at his screen.

"You okay?" Alfred asked.

"I got the footage back from your brother." he told him "It's bad. Really bad. I think I've done better work drunk."

"Really?" Al asked, shifting the cat off to take a look himself "That's not like him."

"Yeah." Ivan agreed, moving aside to let him see the screen "His work's been off for a couple of weeks now, but this is a real nadir."

Alfred scrolled through the edit briefly – true to his word, it was abysmal, littered with errors and cocked up timings. Arthur was usually meticulous: was he sick or something? Ivan answered a message on his phone as Alfred looked through the butchered footage.

"Have you spoken to Arthur lately?" Ivan asked carefully.

"Not lately." he admitted "Why?"

"Francis says he's acting strange." he told him, looking at his phone again "He's being aggressive, lashing out at people – not just grumpy like he usually is. Francis is worried about him actually getting violent."

"What does Kiku say?" Alfred asked, immediately concerned.

Ivan looked at his phone, frowning.

"He says they're 'taking care of it'." he reported "Cryptic as always. I'll have to start the edit from scratch myself – there's no way I can post this."

"Editing's not your strong point." Alfred reminded him "It could take you a week."

Ivan grumbled in acknowledgement.

"Even so, it's be better than this." he pointed out.

"Don't start just yet." Alfred urged "I'll go by their place on my way home tomorrow, see what the problem is. If I can't get him to fix it, I'll at least get you your money back."

Ivan sighed through his nose again – Arthur's usually impeccable work had earned him the benefit of the doubt, and if what Francis had said was true, he wasn't acting like himself at the moment.

"Okay." Ivan agreed "We'll see what's up. Maybe he's sick or something. He's already invoiced me, so if he's not going to fix it, it's going to be a problem."

"Don't worry." Al assured "I'll take care of it."

* * *

He didn't let either of them know he was coming, just to make sure Arthur didn't run away, so they were pretty surprised when he turned up early the next morning.

"Alfred, how unexpected." Kiku greeted over the intercom "How are you? Your brother is coming down now."

"I'm fine." he answered, shuffling his bag on his back "Why don't you just buzz me in?"

"No no, he's already on his way." Kiku insisted "What brings you here today?"

"Nothing special." he lied "Just had some time to kill, thought I'd check in with my favourite broski's!"

"I see..."

Alfred got the impression his visit was unwelcome, which made him want to pry even more. Arthur soon appeared at the door, almost glaring at him as he opened it. Before even saying a word, he stuck his head out and looked all around the street, grabbing Alfred's arm and hauling him inside.

"I thought you were on hiatus." he grumbled "What do you want?"

"Just saying hi."

Arthur practically growled at him before turning tail and stomping back to the lift. He was pale, and looked like he hadn't been sleeping. Arthur had a grumpy personality, but being downright aggressive wasn't his style – something was clearly up with him. Alfred followed him to the lift.

"So, how ya been?" he pried "How are things going with the Cooking with Cat girl?"

"Fine." Arthur spat "How's hiatus?"

"I've never been so busy!" Al laughed "I've spent the last few days recording with Ivan. We've got tons of footage!"

"Good, good for you."

"You get up on the wrong side of the bed, grumpypuss?" he teased.

Arthur glared at him. He said nothing else as they got the flat, Arthur throwing the door open like it had insulted his mother, making a visibly twitchy Kiku jump. The place was a mess, which was weird for them, with plates and cups piled in the sink: their land-line telephone sat unplugged on the coffee table, its wire wrapped around it tightly. Putting his bag on the sofa, Alfred looked around.

"You guys okay?" Alfred asked carefully "It's a pigsty in here."

"Fine." Arthur spat, flopping down angrily on his desk chair and glaring at his computer.

"Well..." Kiku started.

"Oi!" Arthur barked at him, making him flinch again "It's just some mess Alfred, God knows you've seen enough at your own place!"

"Yeah, at my place." Alfred agreed, concern and temper rising in equal measure "I've never seen so much as a speck of dust here!"

Arthur turned back to his computer, resolutely ignoring him. Kiku looked like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue. Alfred took a good look around, trying to find some clues in the mess, and he soon spotted some familiar items; two ridiculous bouquets that would've been ugly even if the flowers were still alive; a pile of business cards from local call girl services, half of them torn in two; a handsome looking side of salmon that smelled strongly of bleach; a pile of unopened junk mail bearing various degrees of aggressive messages; twelve greasy pizza boxes stacked up by the door; and a familiar looking letter from the local SWAT, apologising for the inconvenience.

It didn't take Alfred long to figure it out.

"It's SchizoDoll, isn't it?" he realised "Now I'm on hiatus, she's harassing you."

They both twitched. Kiku seemed pleased that he had realised it, like a weight had been lifted, but Arthur just spun around in his chair, looking grim. He paused, finding his words carefully.

"I guess she found our details when she broke in." he figured "She's trying to find a way to get to you, that's all. It means she can't contact you any other way right now. You have nothing to worry about – we're handling it."

"Not very well." Alfred challenged "Just look at this place! Not to mention the edit you sent to Ivan yesterday was even less than amateur!"

"I know!" Arthur snapped, sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose "I know... I'll redo it. I just... need some tea."

Arthur turned back to his computer, sighing as he got another email. His drooping shoulders betrayed how tired he was... Sympathetic, Kiku went to put the kettle on. Alfred felt overwhelmed with guilt, making his gullet sink right into his stomach: SchizoDoll was his stalker, it was his fault they were being put through this... stupid, stubborn Arthur, trying to act like nothing was wrong after all his lectures before.

Getting angry, Alfred threw off his coat.

"Hey, Kiku," he called "Where does your rubbish go?"

* * *

Cleaning the place out didn't take too long, Alfred taking the heavy stuff while Kiku shredded the papers. They left Arthur alone to work, since he was clearly stressed, making several trips downstairs to the dumpster.

"He's really not taking this well, is he?" Alfred noted on one trip down, nose wrinkling from the stench of bleach and rotting fish in the bin bags he held.

"If it was his own stalker, I think it would be different." Kiku supposed "It's because you're his little brother. You know how protective he is..."

Kiku trailed off, looking at the ground.

"I don't think I could handle it," he admitted "Having a stalker: it's too scary. Arthur knows... he's even being protective of me – he won't let me see any of her emails or messages, even when they're sent to me. I mean, I've read one or two, and I don't know what's scarier: the parts where she's completely crazy, or the parts where she's not."

"What does she say?" Alfred asked "If you don't mind me asking?"

Kiku grumbled uncomfortably, shifting on his feet as the bin bags started to pull on his shoulders.

"She says she's worried about you." he told him "That you're working too hard, that you seem to be tiring yourself out. She thinks you're surrounded by the wrong type of women, that they'll lead you astray."

"I'm surrounded by women?" Al laughed "Where? Why did no-one tell me?"

Kiku chuckled.

"It's scary, the way she seems to care." he went on "If she just stuck to that, if she didn't go psycho crazy when you didn't answer her right away, she'd seem like such a genuinely nice person. It half seems like she's honestly trying to make friends with us."

"Yeah, the websites I looked up said that's pretty common." Alfred assured "The stalker will always try to present themselves as the sane and reasonable party, make the person they're stalking seem like they're crazy or paranoid. They'll befriend their victims friends and try to turn them against them, isolate them so they have no support, make them feel like perhaps they _are_ the one who's crazy, so they can control them better."

Kiku physically shuddered.

"That explains half her messages, but the other half kind of undermine her efforts." he thought.

"Well, the internet's a strange place." Alfred supposed "People have a real disconnect between what happens on the internet and what happens in reality."

"She's disconnected from reality, alright."

* * *

After depositing the final load around the back, Kiku stopped in the lobby to collect the post, frowning unhappily as he dumped several letters straight in the bin.

"What's that?" Alfred noted "'Final notice'?!"

"It's just junk mail." Kiku assured "Dodgy credit companies like to put that on the outside of their junk mail so people who are bad with finances will open it. It's not real."

"Man, that's scary!"

Back in the now clean flat, Arthur had opened up the window to let the fresh air blow the smell away, making the room feel fresh and cold. It was a significant improvement over the way it was this morning, feeling much more like the place Alfred knew it to be. Kiku seemed noticeably more relaxed as well, taking a deep breath of appreciation before grimacing.

"Arthur, smoking!" he chastised.

"Last one." Arthur swore, eyes fixed on his computer.

"You always say that!"

Grumbling, Kiku stormed across the room and grabbed the cigarette from Arthur's mouth, stubbing it out with extreme prejudice in the ashtray before handing him the post.

"It looks much better in here now." he pointed out "How's work going?"

"Well." Arthur admitted shortly "The tea helped. Ivan is happier."

Another email binged into Arthur's inbox, but he just ignored it. Alfred noted that there were nearly seventy sat in his inbox unopened, all sent in the time they had been cleaning.

"It does look better in here." Arthur complimented as he absently opened his letters "Smells better too."

"Makes a difference, doesn't it?"

Tired out from all the labour, Alfred decided it was time to leave, reaching for his coat and finding his excuses. He was stopped in his tracks by a sudden loud scream, scaring him right out of his skin. Spinning around, he saw Arthur's hand bleeding badly, rivers of deep red running quickly down his arm.

"F-fuck!" Arthur stammered, holding it with his other arm and starting to shake "Fuck, fuck!"

Kiku bolted for the kitchen, coming back with a kitchen towel and wrapping it around his hand tightly.

"God, what happened?!" he asked "This is deep!"

Noticing something at his feet, Kiku reached for it, but Arthur pulled him back.

"Does touch that!" he ordered.

Alfred looked down: a half opened envelope, now stained with fresh blood, but instead of a letter, it was filled with razorblades, a hint of orange rust here and there catching his eye.

"Oh, god..."

"Alfred, don't freak out!" Kiku ordered "Arthur, we have to get you to a hospital."

"C-car-" Arthur suggested, going pale as the tea towel turned bright red.

"We don't have time for that!" he insisted "Alfred? Alfred!"

"Yes!" he startled, the site of the blood making him woozy.

"Call an ambulance!" Kiku ordered again "Tell them he's bleeding badly! Arthur, sit down – slowly now."

Alfred's brain kicked into gear, grabbing his phone and dialling before he even knew he was doing it.

* * *

It was past midnight when Alfred finally got home. Arthur had lost a lot of blood by the time they got to the hospital and had to be given a transfusion – luckily the brothers were the same blood type, so it was as fresh as possible, even if they both nearly fainted at the sight of it. His hand was heavily bandaged, and he was given several shots for tetanus and other horrible sounding conditions that getting cut by rusty metal can cause. The doctors alerted the police after Kiku admitted where the wounds had come from, and they took their statements, confiscating the offending envelope, along with the rest of the post.

Alfred was physically shaking. His mind was ablaze. Never in his life... Arthur was his older brother – when he was little, Arthur had seemed like the strongest person in the world. Even now Alfred was taller than him, Arthur still seemed so much more capable, so much more adult... Almost unconscious from the medication he had been given, Alfred had had to carry Arthur from the taxi, up in the lift, and put him to bed. He had had to carry him. He felt weirdly fragile in his arms, hardly awake. He had had to _carry_ him...

Alfred slammed the front door closed, stopping only long enough to lock it and flip the breaker back on, before launching up the stairs to his office, flicking on the lights and turning on his camera. As the red light flashed to show it was recording, he finally broke.

"Listen here, you fucking psychopath BITCH!" he screamed "You so much as come near my family again, I will fucking KILL YOU! Stay away from me! Stay away from my brothers, stay away from my friends! You harass me, you harass my fans, you KILLED my fucking DOG, and now you put my brother in the HOSPITAL! You're a fucking LUNATIC and a STALKER and I want NOTHING to do with you! You're not welcome on my channel, you're not welcome in my life, if I hear so much as a whisper of you anywhere near me, you had best call the police because I'm going to BEAT YOU TO DEATH!

IS. THAT. CLEAR. ENOUGH?!"

Alfred was left panting, rage overtaking him. He didn't care what he looked like, he didn't care what he said. Reaching up to turn off the recording, he stopped with his hand on top of the camera.

"No more games, I'm not playing anymore." he said darkly "SchizoDoll – whoever you fucking are – this is reality. _Don't let me catch you_."

He turned the camera off, switching on his computer to upload the video before he could change his mind.

* * *

Alfred loses it, but it's too optimistic to think that everything's going to get better now. Hold onto your guns, people, because there's only one chapter left, and you know it's going to get dramatic...

As ever, please review!


	9. Chapter 9 No More Games

Okay, quick admission: I meant for this to be the last chapter, but between this and that it didn't get finished - and honestly I think it's long enough already! As such, there's going to be an epilogue soon. Probably next week. Secondly - those with a good memory (or who are new to this story) will remember that this story is based on an idea I had for a Markilpier fan game, and as such there's a bit in this chapter that reflects his start on youtube - some of it is fact, and some is just fiction I made up to fit the story. If you're not a fan of his, chances are you won't even notice it (if I've done my job correctly...).

Anyway!

* * *

**No More Games.**

Alfred hadn't even had time to unpack when Francis appeared at his door, all but abducting him as he dragged him back to his place, concerned what SchizoDoll would do after being called out so publicly.

If the press reaction to SchizoDoll hijacking his accounts before was overblown, what erupted the next morning was a literal shit storm – even the mainstream press picked up on it, and before the end of the day he was being talked about on the BBC, Fox News, This Morning, Loose Women, The Wright Stuff... anything with talking heads and today's news was talking about him. People who had never even heard of him now had detailed opinions on his life and what he did for a living – hell, some idiots even said he deserved to have a stalker, since he played videogames online all day! He couldn't follow that logic...

Ignoring those mouthpieces, he soon noticed a trend amongst the commentators – the women, typically, were more understanding of his fear, likening it to their own experiences with bad ex-boyfriends or their own stalkers, while the men made fun of him, or called him a coward, or said that he should have just 'had his fun' with SchizoDoll, as she 'clearly needed', and other misogynistic things Alfred was shocked they could get away with saying on daytime television. Where the police were in all of this was bought up more than once, and several poor scapegoats had been wheeled out by them to sheepishly admit that there was nothing they could really do, even after all Alfred's reports and Peggy's murder, and the social media sites involved all issued vague press statements to cover their asses legally and disavow any responsibility for what had happened. On the plus side, a few stalking charities and support groups also got some screen time, offering advise to anyone who found themselves in the same situation (although issuing threats of violence online wasn't exactly on their list...).

The video itself was removed from YouTube, since they took a dim view on overt death threats, but it was too late by the time they got to it – it had been uploaded everywhere, under a million names to a million different accounts. A lot of people made fun of him, especially since his stalker was a girl, and a lot of people thought he was a psycho, but he didn't care. Most of his fans, reassuringly, seemed to be on his side: after a morning of unfounded rumours and wild speculation, Alfred decided to release an official statement on his sites, admitting the truth about SchizoDoll, poor Peggy, his sudden house move and what had happened to Arthur's hand. A lot of people were shocked, especially that he had kept it to himself for so long, offering him kind words, sending him links to helpful websites and even offering safe havens if he needed to get away. He was touched by their kindness and understanding, but for every ten good messages and comments, there was one calling him a coward or a psycho or trying to troll him. He ignored them as best he could.

Arthur smacking him viciously over the head with a magazine was harder to ignore: Alfred hoped he would get to talk to him before he watched the news, but to no avail – he watched the news every morning religiously, and coming down off his painkillers was no excuse to break the habit. The group had called an emergency meeting to discuss what to do next, where pretty much everyone had smacked him at least once. After Skyping in lawyer Ludwig, Alfred absolutely refused to issue a retraction, but did promise not to do it again.

"Don't encourage this woman any further." he advised sternly "And if the police want to talk to you, do it – don't get aggressive with them and don't hold anything back. I'm sure we're going to see a few copycats now – people who've probably never even heard of you before today – so you should prepare for that."

Ludwig was right, of course, and the police were soon in touch – especially as the press criticism was making them look bad. However, their attitude was much the same as it had been before: they resented being there, like they had better things to do with their time and the prissy, over-reacting internet celebrity was keeping them from it. Alfred had always had a high opinion of the police, but his dealings with them were quickly changing that. Many media and news outlets also contacted him for comment, but under Ludwig's advisement he simply directed them to his official statement, refusing to say anything else.

* * *

With everything that was going on, it was a few more days before Alfred actually got home. All his clothes were dirty, his back ached from sleeping on sofas and futons and he felt like he badly needed a shower, even though he had had one already. He entered his building with extreme trepidation: would there be a dead animal in his mailbox? Would his front door be glued? Did she break into his place again and scrawl something else in blood on the walls? Nothing but the usual bills and take-away menus in his mailbox: a good start. His door was exactly how he had left it, and other than the smell of a bin that desperately needed to be taken out, everything in his place was exactly how he had left it too.

He let out the breath he had been holding, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders. After taking out the bins, he triple locked his doors and took his much needed shower, the clean clothes in the drawer feeling just like fresh bedsheets against his tired skin. Sitting at his desk, it felt like he had been away for years, rather than the week and a half it had really been. Starting up his computer, he cleared out his messages – there were far too many to answer one-by-one. His fans and detractors were still furiously debating, but that was to be expected. All this internet drama... he had never wanted to be famous for something like this!

Too tired to work, he went downstairs for something to eat, the unpleasant stench from deep in his fridge telling him another trip to the dumpster was in order. Thinking about whether or not he could face it, he glanced at the locked and bolted door, spying something on the floor. Uuuuggghh. Feeling a knot rise in his stomach, he walked over, taking a better look at the periwinkle blue envelope. Hand delivered, it simply had his name written on the back in feminine handwriting. He held it up to the light, but the envelope was too thick to see through, so he held the letter with an oven glove while slicing the top open with a kitchen knife, taking a careful peak inside. Spying nothing but paper, he cautiously pulled it out.

_Alfred,_

_They're onto me! I've seen them in the walls, hiding behind the picture frames! You've seen them too, haven't you? I can't stand their whispering, always talking about me, always plotting! That dead-eyed devil, stirring a toxic cauldron, smiling to herself. Glass eyes, pretty smile, I see what you really are!_

_I'll cut them out. I'll cut them out. Oh God, please help me!_

There was no name on the bottom as the text descended into mad scribbles that were next to illegible, but from the rambling he could guess it was from Kat. He was too tired to deal with it, and Kat had her own friends and family to help her out, so he screwed the letter up and threw it in the bin, going back to his quest for food.

* * *

For all the noise and debate that his actions were causing, one voice was conspicuously absent – that of SchizoDoll herself. Perhaps his words had finally gotten through to her, but no-one had heard so much as a rumour of her since the video – no posts, no emails, no 'surprises' delivered to their doors. The post office had called Arthur because his PO box couldn't hold all the flowers and get-well-soon gifts he was being sent, but none of them were the least bit untoward.

"Miss Sakura thinks you scared her off." Arthur admitted when Alfred delivered all his parcels (since he wasn't allowed to drive on all the painkillers he was on) "She reckons SchizoDoll was praying on the fact you're a pretty friendly person, so she got scared when you got aggressive. You're a pretty big man – Miss Sakura said she'd be pretty scared of you too, if you got angry with her."

"Please tell her I'm not that bad, usually." Al urged, feeling the back of his neck grow hot in displeasure "Has she been by to feed you pudding since you hand got busted?"

"Maybe." Arthur blushed.

"Was Kiku jealous?"

"Why would he be?"

"No reason. Anyway! Your fans being nice to you right now?"

"For the moment." Arthur confirmed "There's always the usual trolls, but for the most part they're being pretty cool. To be honest, I'm getting the most grief from people who've sent me their footage to edit, since I'm falling behind a bit."

"You're kidding! No-one from the collective, I hope!"

"It's alright," he assured, smiling somewhat smugly "I'm not exactly desperate for the money, and I've told them they can go elsewhere if they want to. They know I'm the best, so they'll either do it themselves and remember why they send it to me in the first place, or they'll wait a little longer to get it."

"You git." Alfred laughed "At least I can get a good nights sleep tonight, knowing you're doing so well."

"Of course! Did you expect any less from me?"

"No. But sometimes I remember you're still human..."

Alfred trailed off, remembering how fragile his big brother had felt, unconscious in his arms the other night. He wasn't sure what face he was pulling, but Arthur responded by punching him lightly on the head with his still heavily-bandaged hand. He smiled at Alfred in that reassuring way he always did.

"I'm fine." he insisted "Nothing a strong cup of tea won't fix."

Alfred laughed dryly.

"Idiot." he said "Don't... don't try to keep stuff like that to yourself again, okay? I know I'm your little brother, but I'm still an adult, you know? You can rely on me a little."

"I'm sorry." Arthur replied earnestly "I just didn't want you to worry."

Alfred took the bandaged hand gently, making it clear he was worried anyway. Arthur pulled an apologetic face.

"Of course, sometimes I remember you're an adult." he said "Come on, I'll put the kettle on."

* * *

Having done his food shopping after visiting Arthur, Alfred returned home. Thanks to Ivan, he had a good back catalogue of videos to spread out while he dealt with the fallout from his little tantrum – now that he had had the time to calm down, and the offending party had been silent for nearly a week solid, actually filming a death threat seemed to have been an over-reaction. Not that he was going to apologise or retract it, but he could at least look at it calmly now.

He yawned widely as he pressed the button for the lift. It opened almost immediately, making him jump, a familiar gloomy face greeting him.

"Oh! Hi, Eduard." Al greeted "How are you?"

Eduard resolutely ignored him, marching past him to the front door despite the clearly heavy bags he was holding. Alfred wasn't used to being treated so rudely, grimacing at him before going into the lift. He jumped again when he spotted someone loitering inside, swearing at his own silliness. Natalya just laughed at him.

"Jumpy?" she teased.

"Yeah, something like that." he admitted, walking into the lift "How about you?"

Taking a good look at her, he wished he had phrased that more delicately – she had clearly been crying, and A LOT, eyes very puffy and red rimmed, dark bags firmly in place beneath them.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked again "What happened?"

"Kat tried to kill herself." she told him matter-of-factly.

"Oh my god!"

"Slit both her wrists." she went on, not even looking at him "She's been hospitalised... they don't know when they'll let her out... if they let her out. She's never done something like this before."

"I... I don't know what to say... I'm so sorry..."

"Eduard just came by to get some of her stuff." she told him "Her friends are at the hospital with her. I never thought I'd say this, but... I'm actually kind of lonely. It feels really quiet at home right now."

She turned to him, big eyes full of tears as she pulled a pitiful expression.

"Would you mind... if it isn't too much trouble... would you have dinner with me tonight? Hang out a little, maybe watch a movie? I just... I just don't want to be alone."

"I'm sorry," he said immediately "I'm actually crazy busy tonight. I've got a lot on my plate right now. Sorry."

"Oh... I understand... sure."

She turned away from him, refusing to talk to him again until the lift got to her floor, where she stormed out, letting out a theatrical sob as the doors closed behind her. Alfred felt a pang of guilt, trying his best to bury it: he felt bad for her, but he couldn't make this his problem – God knows he had enough of his own.

* * *

That Friday, he once again needed to take out his bin. There had still been no word from SchizoDoll, and even the furore from his video was starting to die down. He was starting to feel more confident, more relaxed... maybe the madness really was over. As Alfred pulled up the bin bag to tie it, he noticed a screwed up ball of periwinkle blue paper next to the can – he must have missed the bin when he threw it in there.

Picking it up, he thought of Kat and the strange way she had been behaving. Schizophrenia must be hell to live with – he had done a little research, and it seemed that seeing and hearing things that weren't actually there were common, and almost impossible for suffers to distinguish from reality. If he had to live with something like that... he might just try to kill himself too. What had she been seeing when she tried to cut her wrists? Wait... cut?

Alfred unscrewed the letter, the words he read making the bile rise in his stomach: '_I'll cut them out_.' Oh... oh god... Alfred felt so sick, his knees buckled beneath him, hand covering his mouth. She had told him she was going to do it. She had asked for his help.

This was a suicide note.

And he had ignored her.

Guilt and nausea overwhelmed him. He shouldn't have ignored her – she was begging him for help! She was begging him for help, and he didn't do a damn thing! Was that the kind of man he was becoming?! Was that the kind of man SchizoDoll was turning him into?! Unable to hold the guilt in, he burst into tears. He didn't want to be this kind of person! What if she had actually died?! This wasn't the man he was! He was better than this!

He didn't get millions of fans by not caring about people. He wasn't getting all this support, even after his stupid threats, because he didn't support others during their times of need. What was the point of all his talk about love and care and being a community if he was going to turn his back on a fan – someone who had only ever tried to be his friend! - when she needed him the most?

He calmed himself down with a big drink of water, taking deep breaths until the pain in his throat subsided. He wasn't going to be this type of man. He wasn't going to let this fracas change him. He wouldn't turn his back on someone who asked him for help, no matter who they were!

Someone else had asked him for help this week... making sure he had sufficiently calmed down, he picked up the phone.

* * *

Balancing the baked Alaska in one hand, Alfred knocked on the door. Natalya opened it almost immediately, filling the hall with the smell of home cooking.

"Good evening." she greeted "Thanks for changing your mind."

"What can I say, my schedule cleared up." he said "And thank you for inviting me. I bought dessert!"

"I love dessert!" she said, beckoning him in "Should I put it in the freezer?"

"You can, but it's best if it's just a little melted when you eat it, so if you take it out ten minutes before it'll be perfect."

"That's okay." Natalya assured "I'm in no rush tonight."

She took the plate from him, crossing over to the kitchen to put it away. While she was a naturally pretty person, tonight she looked particularly beautiful, with freshly applied make-up and hair that was soft and fragrant like it had just been washed. Alfred guessed she must have really been looking forward to having some company, since all the people here before were Kat's friends more than hers. He guessed she didn't have a lot of friends locally.

"So, what are we having?" he asked as he settled down on a kitchen chair "It smells good!"

"An old recipe my mother taught me." she admitted "It's pretty spicy – is that okay?"

"Sure, I love spicy food! What's in it?"

"Chicken, chorizo, chilli's, peppers, Mediterranean vegetables, all served on chewy brown rice. I'm not as good a cook as Kat, but I can find my way around in a kitchen."

"Sounds delicious!"

Natalya smiled happily, pulling the plates out of the oven where they had been left to warm, and started to dish up the food.

"There's plenty more, if you want seconds." she told him as she put the plates on the table, sitting down besides him.

"Thanks! Well, _bon appetit_!"

Picking up his fork, he tucked into the meal, gasping and flapping his hand about comically the second it hit his tongue.

"You weren't kidding when you said it was spicy!" he cried.

"I did warn you, silly." she laughed "Milk?"

"Please!"

"Did you take care of all your work?" Natalya asked as she got up to go back to the fridge "Being self-employed must be difficult!"

"For now." he told her "There's always more to do, but I don't mind – I actually really like my job! Hey, is there alcohol in this? I feel a little light-headed."

"Just a little, but the chilli's really bring it out. How did you get into it?" she asked, coming back over and placing the milk on the table "Playing video games for a living – it sounds like a twelve year old's dream! Please, eat up."

"Honestly, I started off with an office job after uni." Alfred admitted, taking a sip of milk before eating a little more "But I hated it – being stuck behind a computer eight hours a day, doing two hours of work. I wasn't doing anything worthwhile, I wasn't making a difference in anyone's life. Well, this and that happened, and I ended up getting pretty sick, and it gave me a lot of time to think: I figured, this is something I've always wanted to do, and even if I mess it up and everything goes wrong, I'll always regret not having tried. So I just went for it, and luckily for me, everything's gone pretty well!"

"That's so brave of you." she admired, hands laced under her chin "Were your parents really okay with it?"

"Not at all." Al admitted, laughing a little "Arthur – my older brother – he was already doing stuff like this, although he makes way more money editing for other people. My parents have always used him as an example of what not to do, so they were pretty upset I was following his lead. They begged me to find another office job, but in the end I convinced them – I said, 'if I can make a living doing this for a year, you have to back off!' That was three years ago!"

"Sounds like you were their favourite." Natalya noted.

"Y-yeah..." he agreed guiltily, fiddling with his food "It kinda sucked when I realised... but y'know, Arthur is _my_ favourite, so..."

Natalya laughed through her nose wistfully.

"I understand." she said "Kat was always our families favourite, even with my parents. 'Kat's so smart, Kat's so nice, you should be more like her', all the time. 'Kat's so talented, why don't you try harder at things?'" she sighed "But I couldn't be mad at her, because she was the person who was the nicest to me. We were like sisters... she never made me feel like I wasn't good enough. Until she changed, anyway."

"The schizophrenia?"

Natalya huffed, pulling a disgusted face.

"The_ drugs_ changed her." she insisted "She became a completely different person – I didn't even know her anymore! She got a boyfriend, and she got fat, and she became just like everybody else. 'Natalya, what are you going to do with your life? You can't be a waitress forever!' 'Natalya, why are you so mean to everyone? Why do you push people away all the time? You'd get a boyfriend if you were nicer.' 'Natalya, why do you spend so much time online? It's not healthy!'" she sighed again "We used to be so close. I hate who she's become."

"I'm sorry." he replied earnestly "Mental illness can really change a person."

"Let's talk about something else." she insisted "How's your brothers hand? Eat up, your food's getting cold."

"It's alright, all things considered. He's too stubborn to be too badly hurt, and he's getting attention from his crush, so it's worked out for him."

"That's good." Natalya laughed "You two are pretty close, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we are." Alfred confessed, a little embarrassed.

"I bet he didn't leave your side for a second during that tumour scare."

"Yeah, he stuck to me like glue! I hate to think what he would have been like if it actually had been cancer!"

Hang on a second...

"Did I mention that?" he asked, not remembering ever having done so to her.

"You did, when you told me about your life." she said "About a year and a half ago."

"About...? Oh, you mean my 'draw my life' video? Yeah, I did mention it then."

Wow, the alcohol in this dish must be really strong – his head was swimming more than a little, feeling floppy on his shoulders. He thought it wise to take a break, putting the fork down.

"Something wrong?" Natalya asked, cocking her pretty head to the side.

"Just taking a break." he admitted "Does no good to get indigestion."

"You're so smart." she complimented "You always know just what to do."

"Oh, that's not true." he insisted, feeling his cheeks get hot.

"Okay, so your sense of direction's never been great." she giggled "But you're great at figuring things out, and your love of science is really contagious. I could just listen to you talk all day!"

"You sounds like one of my fans!"

"I'm not one of your fans – I've told you that."

"Right. I vaguely recall..."

A little red flag was starting to wave in his brain. Thinking it might just be him being paranoid, he took a big drink of milk. Did it taste a little odd? Over the chorizo and spice of the stew, it was hard to tell.

"Vaguely?" Natalya pouted "I know you have to deal with a lot of meaningless messages everyday, but you could at least remember what_ I_ say."

"Sorry. I guess it's been a while since you said it?"

"Hmm, I guess so." she admitted wistfully "It's been about... two and a half years? Wow, time really flies, doesn't it?"

The red flag got a little bigger.

"Two and a half years?" he clarified.

"Yup." she confirmed happily "Ever since you played Amnesia for me. I really wanted that game, but my computer wasn't good enough. It was really sweet of you to put yourself through all that for me – I know how scared it made you!"

The red flag started to wave furiously. Alfred pushed his plate away, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Amnesia... that series got me a lot of subscribers." he said, trying to steer the conversation to a more normal track "My fanbase nearly doubled."

Natalya just grimaced.

"Those cheap girls are all the same, trying to take something that doesn't belong to them. You made those videos for _me,_ it was so rude of them to just butt in where they weren't wanted like that. If they weren't all so ugly, they'd have their own boyfriends and stop trying to take mine."

She looked at him with her big doe eyes, looking like an innocent angel despite her vicious words.

"Know what I mean?" she finished.

He knew one thing for sure.

"I have to go."

Alfred stood, but the alcohol was stronger than he thought, making him sway on his feet. Natalya stood as well, grabbing his arm.

"Go?" she whined "But you just got here! You haven't even touched your dessert!"

"You can keep it." he insisted.

"How can you say that?!" she cried "You know sweets make you fat! Do you want me to get fat?! After all the effort I put in to look pretty for you!"

Alfred tried to walk, but his knees gave way, causing him to grab the table to stop himself falling. His whole body felt limp, held up by strings, but his head was perfectly clear. This wasn't what being drunk was like.

"You put something in the food." he accused, only just staying up under his own power.

"Kat's anti-crazy pills." Natalya admitted easily "She was always complaining that they made her tired. I guess it wasn't all in her head. Makes a nice change."

"Oh God," Alfred confirmed "I can't believe... You're SchizoDoll!"

Natalya smiled at him sweetly.

"Of course I am, sweetie!" she said "It took you long enough to recognise my username! I've been posting on your videos for years, but my comments always got buried under those whores clawing over each other trying to get your attention. Well, better late than never."

"You killed my dog!" he accused "Why?!"

"Because I love you the most." she said simply "So you're not allowed to love anyone else. That's how it works."

"You hurt Arthur!"

"Your brother _disapproved_ of me." she hissed "He told me so, said you'd never love me. I tried to convince him, I tried to be his friend, but he just wouldn't listen! I figured, if he got hurt, he'd know he wasn't welcome! That he was interfering with our love! That he was a burden, just like your parents always told him he was! But you were too kind to him, so he didn't get it. You're so kind, even to people like him."

Natalya walked around the table, back to the kitchen, almost floating. She fingered the handle of one of the big knives absently.

"Moving into this building together... don't you think it was fate? Your idea was much better than mine, anyway. So romantic..."

"My idea?" Alfred asked, chest starting to get tight from the drugs running around his system "What idea?"

Natalya paused. She took the knife firmly, pulling it slowly out of the large wooden block, before turning to him with a smile.

"To die." she told him "You said you'd kill me. Don't you think that's so romantic? To die together, like Romeo and Juliet! To be young and beautiful, together forever!"

"You're crazy!"

Natalya... SchizoDoll... stopped smiling.

"You don't think it's romantic?" she asked calmly, sending a shiver down Alfred's spine "That's a shame. Boys are so... boring. I thought you at least could see the poetry in it. Kat could – she would have died with us too, if Eduard hadn't interfered. Not that it matters: _I_ know it's romantic, and that's what matters."

She raised the knife, pointing it right at him.

"There's only the two of us in this world." she said certainly "So let's die together. I think I'd prefer to be choked – I'd get a bruise, but it wouldn't mess up my hair or my dress. I'll stab you in the heart – doesn't that seem like a manly way to go?!"

"Like hell it does!"

Alfred tried to run, but his body wouldn't co-operate, and he went crashing to the ground. He couldn't feel his feet, and was starting to lose the sensation in his fingers. Falling barely felt like anything, despite the crumpled heap he landed in, his head getting more and more fuzzy. The door... the door was so far away! Natalya started walking back around the table. He had to get away! But the door was so far, his vision starting to narrow and darken.

He looked around furiously – the bathroom! It was right behind him! Summoning up all his strength, he threw himself at the bathroom door, throwing it open, and slammed it closed, locking it and collapsing to the ground from the effort. Oh god, would that flimsy lock even hold?!

Thinking fast, he spun around to the toilet, sticking his fingers deep down his throat and throwing up everything he had eaten, painting the bowl with undigested food and bile.

Natalya pounded furiously on the door.

"AMERICA!" she screamed "LET ME IN! Is something wrong? Did the food not agree with you?"

"Crazy... she's crazy!" Al choked between bouts of throwing up.

He reached desperately into his pocket, only to find it empty. Where was his phone?! Had he left it at home?! Did it fall out his pocket when he fell? Stomach finally empty, he rushed to the tap, drinking as much water as he could, gulping it down haphazardly enough to choke while his assailant continued to pound on the door. There's no way that lock would hold...

"America!" she called again, almost whining "Why do you keep putting this off? It was your idea! Face it like a man!"

There was a splintering 'thud' as the end of the knife appeared through the door. Fuck, it was hollow! He looked all round, but there was only one other way out of the bathroom. He jumped up – the purge had worked, his limbs feeling steadier than before as he pulled open the window, throwing his head out: six stories up, falling from here would be no joke! Natalya continued to hack at the door like Jack from the Shining, leaving him with no other choice.

He climbed out as far as he dared to take a good look around: there was a tiny ledge below, just enough for his toes. The next floor up was too far, down was _way_ too far, was he... wait! The next window was open! He could reach it! Thank god for the little flats on this level!

As carefully as possible, making no noise, he inched himself around, slowly lowering himself onto that tiny ledge. Sweet heaven, he wasn't nearly as steady as he should have been to be doing this. Natalya didn't notice a thing, even when he knocked over a pile of half empty shampoo bottles, which clattered noisily in the bathtub: she was too busy trying to get through the door.

Finally on the ledge, he inched along, keeping a firm grip on the window frame. He had never been more thankful for his long arms: in one gut-wrenching movement, he let go of the bathroom window with one hand, moving his body away from the wall far enough to get his arm through, and grabbed the frame to the next room, nearly slipping on the silky curtain. His stomach did an entire circus act of flips in his belly, the vertigo making his already light head spin further.

Making sure he had a firm grip on the other frame, he pulled himself toward it, grabbing it with his other hand as he felt himself falling. His glasses hit the metal frame as he hugged it for dear life, losing their anchor on his face and slipping off, and he sure as hell wasn't going to try and catch them. They fell right down, the whole six stories, non-stop, as Alfred hauled himself into the room. He was so glad he had started working out again.

He collapsed onto the carpet, winded and exhausted from the effort. He could still hear Natalya going for the door in the next room, but he needed to take a moment to breathe. He wasn't particularly afraid of heights, but he didn't have to be to find that terrifying! Without his glasses, it took him a moment to realise where he was, but his vision wasn't so bad that it didn't come to him.

The entire room was what could only be described as a shrine: there were pictures of him everywhere – stills taken from his videos, photo's from his con appearances, candid shots of him out shopping or at McDonalds, walking through the park... She had all his official merchandise, in multiples, and fanart from many different artists, many of them overtly erotic. On the dresser... was that his old toothbrush?! The one he threw out months ago?! Used razor cartridges, hair clippings, that pair of underwear with the whole in, the mouldy remains of a sandwich he only took a few bites of...

He realised quickly: this was Natalya's room. Shit! Shit,shit, shit, shit, shit! Out of the frying pan, into the fire! This room was like something out of a horror movie, but he forced himself not to scream, pursing his lips together to stop himself hyperventilating. He just had to get past Natalya, get to the front door, and he'd be okay. He could get help, he could get away!

He got to his feet as quietly as he could, listening intently, but heard nothing. Complete silence. Had she gotten into the bathroom while he was catching his breath? Where was she now? He crept towards the door. Had she left? Silence...

The door burst open, Alfred screaming in shock and pain as the knife sliced deep into his shoulder. Natalya capitalised, pushing him down onto the bed. She was practically panting, and not from the effort of pushing him, as she climbed on top of him.

"I missed your heart." she pointed out "Oops. You'll forgive me, right?"

The pain was blinding, the heat of the blood that poured from his shoulder unbelievable.

"I was okay with dying pure," she admitted, still brandishing the knife "But if you want us to give ourselves to each other first, I'm okay with that too."

If he...? Oh HELL NO! He pushed her off, shoulder screaming from the effort, and bolted for the door. His knees buckled, causing him to stumble as blood flowed freely from the wound. He was already light-headed, and the blood loss was quickly making it worse, everything spinning around him.

He managed to make it to the front door, desperately trying the handle. Oh god... it was locked... where were the keys? Natalya stood calmly at the door to her bedroom, clearly annoyed at having been shoved aside so rudely. She held up the front door keys to show him before pulling open the front of her dress, shoving them securely to the bottom of her bra. He was not going to be getting them.

"Natalya... Natalya, don't do this..." he begged, starting to pant from the drugs and the wound, using the table to steady himself "This isn't right."

"Don't beg." she spat in disgust "America doesn't beg! America is a real man!"

"I don't know what fantasies you've built up about me, but I want nothing to do with them!"

"Stop playing games, America!"

"I'm not 'America'! I'm Alfred!"

Natalya pulled a face like she was going to cry, fiddling with the knife in her hands.

"You're not yourself right now, America." she said, almost to herself "It's the drugs, just like with Kat. But don't worry – I'll fix it. I'll fix it, and you'll be beautiful forever."

Oh God, she was going to kill him, she was really going to kill him! But... he was bigger than her, stronger than her – even injured and woozy, he could probably overpower her. His vision blurred significantly, and he felt himself losing the feeling on the side he had been stabbed. After all his talk, all his bombastic threats, he couldn't do it – he couldn't actually bring himself to kill someone. Natalya walked calmly towards him.

The front door burst open furiously, smacking her square in the face with the keys still in the lock.

"NATALYA!" screamed a furious voice "YOU BITCH! YOU MESSED WITH MY PILLS!"

Alfred collapsed, his knees finally giving way as his blood drained to dangerously low levels. Kat stormed in like a Valkyrie, shoulders set and haunches raised, ready for a fight. She didn't even see Alfred, knocking the knife from the startled Natalya's hand and grabbing her by the hair.

"What the fuck did you think you were playing at?!" she continued to berate "Did you think the doctors weren't going to figure it out?! Do you have _any idea_ how _dangerous_ that was?! I could have DIED! Or WORSE! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!"

"Oh my God!"

Alfred startled, shook from his waning consciousness by someone grabbing him firmly. Eduard pulled him away from the table, gasping at the fresh, white hot blood as it coated his hands, and pulled off his coat, tying it tightly around Alfred's shoulder.

"Jesus, Alfred, are you okay?!" he asked "Alfred! Talk to me! Don't go into shock, stay awake!"

"Alfred?"

Kat looked around, face immediately a picture of horror at what she saw, before spinning back to Natalya.

"What have you done?!" she demanded, giving her hair a vicious tug "What the hell have you done?!"

"Leave me alone!" Natalya screamed back "This has nothing to do with you! God, not everything is about you, Katyusha!"

"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you! What the hell did you do?!"

"Kat, we need to call an ambulance!" Eduard insisted.

"My phone is in my purse." she told her boyfriend.

"Stop interfering!" Natalya screamed, trying to pull her hair free desperately "Just let us die together! It's what we want! It's what we've always wanted, just the two of us, forever! Can't you see it's what he wanted too?!"

"What are you talking about? You sound like a stalker!"

Kat came to the same realisation as Alfred, letting go of Natalya's hair in her shock. The smaller woman stumbled back, hitting her head hard against the wall. Kat just gaped at her.

"You're SchizoDoll!" she accused, completely horrified "You _are_ his stalker! You _killed Peggy!_"

"I don't like to share!" Natalya roared "Not with a bunch of whores, not with some fucking dog, and not with _him_!"

She hissed at Eduard, who visibly shrunk away from her, shielding Alfred as best he could. He was trying so hard to stay awake, to stay conscious, but he so badly wanted to go to sleep...

"You posted all those horrible comments and videos!" Kat accused "You harassed Alfred and his friends for months... is this what you've been spending all your money? You're in all that debt because you've been doing _this_?!"

"You wouldn't understand! None of you would understand! You can't know what he means to me! He loves me, and I'm not letting some schizo bitch talk down to me!"

"I may be schizophrenic, but you're _crazy_!"

Quick as a whip, Natalya dived for the knife on the floor, picking it up and taking a swing for Kat. The chef was no easy target, and not afraid of knives. She grabbed Natalya's wrist as she tried to swing, punching her hard in the stomach and again in the face, forcing her to let go of the knife. Alfred heard gasps and swears of shock as Kat's other friends appeared at the door, dropping what they had been holding and running in.

"Restrain her!" Kat ordered "I have to call the police!"

"Ambulance first!" Eduard all but screamed.

Their voices were getting distant. It was very cold now... it had seemed so hot before... he woke a little as Eduard shook him desperately.

"Alfred, stay awake!" he yelled at him "Stay awake! Alfre-..."

* * *

dun Dun DUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNN...!


	10. Chapter 10 Epilogue

Wow, I had a lot of feedback from that last chapter! For those of you who guessed SchizoDolls identity - congrats! But it was a lot of fun reading the shocked responses too! I think action scenes are pretty hard to write, so I was happy to receive so many compliments about it. Anyway, here's the promised epilogue! Hope it wraps everything up nicely.

* * *

**Epilogue.**

"...so I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank all my fans for their support these last few months. You can't know what it means to me, I have such a great, great community here... the doctor says I may never fully get the movement back in my hand, but it's about 80% of what it was. You'll have to forgive me for being a little worse at games from now on! But my long-term fans should be used to that! Haha... Anyway, I should stop recording before I start crying again... This is America, thanking you all for 8 million subscribers. The next video is going to be a special edition of Five Nights at Fuckboys with me and the gang, drunk off our heads, so I hope to see you all there! Bye-bye!"

Alfred kept smiling as he turned off the camera, wincing at the pain in his arm as his hand contorted in a way it no longer liked to do. After sending the footage to Arthur, he stretched, shoulder pulling again. It was only a vlog, so really it didn't take too much editing, but he had earned a day off after reaching this enormous milestone.

Realising he was getting hungry, he got up from his desk chair and went to the bedroom, putting on a pair of jeans and an over-shirt. He briefly checked his shoulder in the mirror – the wound had healed, but was still bright red and angry looking, making him self-conscious that it would be seen through a white shirt or a vest. The knife had severed some vital nerves and connections, resulting in the loss of movement and feeling in his hand. Physiotherapy had helped, but it would never be what it was, even with the daily exercises the doctor had given him to do.

Pulling on his shoes, he took his keys off the side and grabbed the leash.

"Carter!" he called into the house "Walkies!"

There was a loud 'thud' as something was knocked over, followed by the thundering of excited footsteps as the Alsatian bounded through the house, wagging his tail happily as it got to the front door. Attaching the leash to his collar, Alfred led him out into the sunshine.

It was a nice day, feeling all the sweeter for the massive achievement he had reached today. He would never get used to how quiet the streets were in this gated community, devoid of all life but for a few housewives and retirees tending their gardens and the occasional Benz or Bentley gliding past. Truth be told, he still felt very out-of-place here, like a fraudster trying to blend in, but as he passed one of the two entrances, staffed by the private security that noted everyone who entered and exited, he felt like the elevated mortgage was money worth spending.

He let Carter off the leash at the dog park, where he happily ran around chasing birds and squirrels, fetching the sticks Alfred threw until he was tired out, putting his head on his owners lap as they watched the ducks in the pond for a while. When the dog was sufficiently recovered, Alfred put the leash back on and exited the park, appreciating the foliage in the avenue as he walked along to his favourite restaurant.

"Hello?" he called as he poked his head in the ornate wood-and-glass door "I've got Carter with me, is it okay to come in?"

"Oh, Alfred!" Eduard greeted, looking up from his business ledger at the bar "We're not technically open just yet. Has he done his business already?"

"Yeah, we've had our walk already." Alfred assured "I was just going to pick up some lunch to go, if that's okay."

"Sure, come on in."

Eduard put the ledger aside as Kat wondered in from the kitchen, decked out in her chefs whites, carrying a basket of fresh produce.

"Alfred!" she greeted as she saw him "Welcome!"

"Hi, Kat." he said back "What's good today?"

"It's _all_ good!" she insisted "But just between you and me, we just got an especially good delivery of fish from the market – it's so fresh, it might just swim right out of the pan! It's being prepared with a fresh tomato and herb sauce, sautéed potatoes and fresh greens."

"Sounds delicious." Alfred agreed "One to go, please!"

"Coming right up." Kat laughed "But hey, did you hear? A certain someone just reached 7 thousand subscribers!"

"You did?" Alfred turned to Eduard, who blushed and scratched his cheek self-consciously "You didn't say anything!"

"Y-yeah." Eduard stammered "It's pretty amazing... it's all thanks to your advice, though!"

"Don't be silly." he insisted "You had a great idea with your series, and your hard work is really paying off!"

"Your promo didn't hurt."

"Alright you two, enough with the 'who can be the humblest' contest." Kat teased "Take a seat, Alfred, it'll be a few minutes."

"Thanks."

Alfred hopped up onto one of the bar seats as Kat went back to the kitchen, Carter laying down at his feet. Eduard got a bottle of coke from the fridge and cracked it open, placing it in front of Alfred.

"On the house." he insisted "In celebration of reaching 8 million."

"Hey, thanks! I didn't want to say anything..."

"Your achievement doesn't take away mine." Eduard insisted "Got anything good planned?"

"I've filmed a vlog, and Kiku's doing an animation for me. Other than that, I thought I'd have a nice lunch, a long bath and night off!"

"Sounds like a plan."

"What about you?"

"We're going out for a drink on Wednesday, since we both have it off."

"You're not going with Toris and Ravis?"

"Well... it's kind of a special occasion as well." Eduard confessed, blushing again "It'd be better with just he two of us."

"What, you going to propose or something?" Alfred teased.

Eduard just blushed further. Realising what that meant, Alfred nearly choked on his coke.

"Oh my god!" he squealed happily.

"Sshhhhhh!" Eduard pleaded "It's a surprise!"

Alfred just clapped his hands like a happy baby, grinning widely.

"Message me Thursday, tell me how it went!" he pleaded quietly.

"Okay, I will." Eduard promised "I know you like to keep up to date with things. S... speaking of 'up to date', there's been some news..."

He looked away, going a little pale and fiddling with the pen in his hands.

"With Natalya?" Alfred guessed, just the sound of her name still bringing uncomfortable tension to the back of his neck.

"Yeah." Eduard admitted, looking back "They've finished her evaluation: she's been declared to be sane."

"Are you kidding me?!" Alfred cried "After everything that happened?! How can she be sane?"

"It's some kind of sociopathy, apparently." he relayed "She's able to rationalise everything she did... it's a twisted kind of logic to us, but it is logic. Apparently that makes her sane..."

There was a moment of tense silence as they realised exactly what that meant.

"So, what happens now?" Alfred asks.

"She goes to prison." Eduard assured "She's looking at about 15 years. It's probably better this way – if she was institutionalised, she'd be out much quicker: she's smart, and good at manipulating people, so she could convince them she was cured pretty easily... apparently those are well known traits of sociopathy, but when you throw in the anonymity of the internet, everything got a bit strange and serious. The doctor said her fixation on you was just chance..."

"Just my bad luck." Al summarised.

"Seems like it...While we're on the subject, we've had some people coming in here asking about you: apparently some of our take-out boxes could be seen in one of your vlogs last month."

Alfred felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

"Maybe we can organise a small meet." he suggested "For the local fans – then they won't be curious."

"Are you sure that's okay?" Eduard asked.

"Yeah – I'm sure they're just normal fans: if I give them what they want, they'll stop looking."

"If you think so, I can ask the insurance company about the cost of it. But it's up to you, though, if you change your mind."

Kat reappeared from the kitchen, plain white bag in her hands.

"Don't you dare put this in the microwave, or you'll ruin it and poison yourself!" she warned as she gave it to him "If it's cold when you get home, put it in the oven!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Alfred laughed.

"I also put in an extra large serving of chocolate cake to celebrate your 8 million subscribers!" she told him with a wink "We're going out on Wednesday to celebrate as it is – why don't you come with us?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm a bit swamped at the moment." he lied "Maybe next time."

"Okay." Kat sighed in exaggerated disappointment "Give us a call next time you're free, okay?"

"... Does the restaurant have caller ID?"

"It doesn't record the numbers." she assured "It's older than any of us, and the owner refuses to buy a new one."

"I see... then sure, I'll give you a call. You guys have a good one – and have fun on Wednesday!"

"You too!" Kat finished, waving him off with a smile as he got off his chair.

"See you soon." Eduard joined, also waving.

Carter jumped up from the floor to follow Alfred, sniffing at the bag with great interest.

* * *

Half way home, the phone started going in Alfred's pocket, 'Arthur' flashing up on the screen.

"I'm just calling to make sure you haven't forgotten about tomorrow." his older brother said when he answered "I don't want to be sat outside for half an hour again because that jobsworth at the gate won't let us in."

"I haven't forgotten." Al laughed "I'll let them know to expect you guys."

"Good. And hey, congrats on the 8 million. I just sent you back the footage, so you can upload it as soon as you get home."

"Thanks – I'm pretty stoked! I thought I'd take the rest of the day off to celebrate."

"Call mum and dad." Arthur all but ordered "They called me yesterday wondering why you hadn't told them about it. I also got an earful about you changing your name from dad, like it was my fault, so prepare for that."

"I will." Alfred assured "Sorry you got bitched at. I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you then."

He hung up just as he got to his front door, fishing his keys out of his pocket. Carter ran inside, flopping down gratefully on the rug in front of the tv.

"You're only 4, stop acting like an old man." Alfred teased the animal, who just huffed at him in response.

Alfred turned the oven on, unpacking the food and putting it on appropriate trays. Putting it in to warm up, he decided to post the vlog while he waited, so he could really enjoy his afternoon off. Passing the front door, he double-checked that he had locked it, finally putting that chain on and setting the alarm, before going to his office.

* * *

So, that was that, short and sweet. I wanted a more sedate feel than the last chapter, especially with the way it ended. I'm sure anyone who's ever been alone in the house at night has felt that creeping unease of things just not being safe, even when they are (anyone who hasn't, watch the part of the original Grudge movie with the sister alone in her flat... you'll get it then) - I know I used to get it a lot, and I hope I was able to bring some of that paranoia out in this story.

I've never received anon hate myself (I've never courted popularity, I guess, or perhaps I've just been lucky), but I've seen some of the messages other people have gotten - I found them pretty weak, but I'm more creative than the average troll, and I've always found the whole concept to be strange and kind of sad. That being said, I can understand how being told to kill yourself and other horrible things every day can wear you down - I'm old enough that the internet wasn't even really a common thing until I was a teenager (I'm not as old as all that, the technology has just progressed so quickly!), so it really concerns me that some people have this disconnect between what happens online and what happens irl: it's easy to forget that people online are still people, especially when we protect our anonymity behind avatar and screen names. I think SchizoDoll was one of those people, only seeing other users as meaningless names or personless spambots in the way of her connection with Alfred: I thought of some very vicious things for SchizoDoll to say, but in the end I just couldn't type them - even as part of a story, it just wasn't in me to put such words together. I guess I'm just soft :P

While Natalya's screen name was 'SchizoDoll', I think it was important that she not actually be schizophrenic - while some schizophrenic people can be violent, they're much more likely to be the victims of violence, and are more of a danger to themselves than others. Thanks to the media's misrepresentation of what schizophrenia is, a lot of people associate them with violent murderers and sociopaths, or those suffering from multiple personality disorder - an association I admit I used to my advantage when I cast Kat as the red herring! (Believe it or not, I do do a little research when I write these stories!) I think it's got to be one of the worst mental disorders to be afflicted with, since the hallucinations can make sufferers question reality itself. If you ever find yourself questioning reality, try reading something - it doesn't matter what - since the part of the brain that processes words is on the other hemisphere to the dreaming part. If you find yourself questioning reality often, please see a doctor!

Anyway I hope you all enjoyed reading 'I Love You Most'. I always wanted to have a little heart at the end of the title, but I could never get it to work right...


End file.
